


Lonelier Places

by lillyluna



Series: Drop The World [3]
Category: Olympics RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF, Swimming RPF
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Reconciliation, Series, Slow Build, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2017-12-13 21:55:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 55,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829315
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lillyluna/pseuds/lillyluna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Concluding part of the Shelter/Drop The World series. Picks up exactly where Drop The World left off. </p><p>Ryan and Michael had their whole life figured out until Ryan decided to drop everything. After London he realizes his mistake but doesn't know how to get back to where he was.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> If we’ve all moved on  
> By the time summer’s gone  
> Then I might have to rewrite this story in my palms
> 
>  
> 
> *clearly, this isn't real*

Ryan doesn't want to get back into bed.

He stands frozen by the dresser and rocks back and forth on his heels. He blinks to get his eyes used to the darkness and scrunches his face feeling the tightness around his eye and the sting of the cuts. He squeezes his eyes shut and when he opens them the room is clearer.

Austin is still sleeping. He's taken the pillow off his head something Ryan's learned Austin does after he's finally realized he won't be awakened by pagers and calls. His arm is thrown across the empty space that belongs to Ryan.

Ryan knows that the moment he lies back down Austin's arm will snake it's way across his chest. Ryan knows Austin will lean his forehead against his back and pull the covers over both of them. Ryan can almost feel the way Austin's lips would brush against his skin and the way Austin's legs would feel against his own.

He doesn't want any of it.

It's 3am and Ryan stands five feet away from the bed not moving. He doesn't feel the cold of the icepack in his hand or the sting of the cuts on his face over how his chest feels like it's ripping apart and caving in at the same time. He feels empty and buried and wrecked and lonely.

Ryan wants to walk out. He wants Austin to not be there. What he's been forcing himself to be a part of for the past eight months suddenly doesn't seem real at all. He gets it.

“Come on.” He whispers. He doesn't know if he's encouraging himself to step forward or to get out.

Ryan takes one, two, three, four breaths. He lets them go slowly and squeezes his eyes shut again. When he opens them though he's still stuck in the same place; standing five feet away from his bed and his boyfriend and everything he's suppose to want in life. Except what he really wants is to be in another room two floors above.

Michael had hesitated. He had thought about it; a part of him had thought of saying yes.

You walked away too fast, Ryan thinks, if you go back maybe he'll-

But this is where he is and where he's chosen to be. He's made choices every day to be in this room standing close to a bed he doesn't want to sleep in.

He takes one step back. Wonders if Devon's mad enough to not open his door.

“Why're you up?” Austin groans sleepily.

Ryan hopes that Austin's just woken up and hasn't noticed him standing like a moron for the past five minutes.

Austin props himself up on one elbow and flicks on the lamp. His hair is pulled back and he's not wearing a shirt.

“Come back to bed?” Austin asks and his voice is uncertain.

“Ice.” Ryan holds up the ice pack. He tries not to meet Austin's eyes because Austin looks seriously sad and Ryan can't even bring himself to take a step forward.

“Is it worse?” Austin kicks the blankets off and steps out of bed, trained by years of being awake right away. “Let me see.”

“No.” Ryan forces himself to stay where he is. “It hurts so yeah I guess like worse.”

Austin's already turned the lamp on the desk and his fingers brush gently against Ryan's face. He takes Ryan by the arm and guides him to sit on the armchair so he can get a better look.

“I haven't been able to like sleep.” Austin explains and he presses his fingers under Ryan's eye, “I keep thinking that maybe he like fractured your eye socket or your cheekbone and you should have gone for ct scan. You're not having like problems seeing or anything?”

“No.” Ryan brushes Austin's hand away from his face.

Austin takes the ice pack and holds it to the side of Ryan's face right under his eye. A second before his sight is obscured by the ice, Ryan notices scars he's never seen running up Austin's forearm. They're raised and faded looking and all Ryan can hear are Devon's words from months ago about how Austin had acted when his last relationship had ended.

He grabs Austin by the wrist and pushes him away one more time.

“Are you serious?” Austin says and he sounds fed up and discouraged, he shoves the ice pack hard against Ryan's chest.

“I'm sorry.” Ryan doesn't even know what he's apologizing for. He knows he's not sorry for anything that's related to Austin.

“I didn't do anything.” Austin tells him and his voice breaks, “You wanted me here so I came here even though all your friends hate me and your family hates me. I went to that party and you left me to go fight with him and now I can't even touch you? This isn't fair dude. Like I'm-”

Austin sits down on the edge of the bed and stares hard at his hands he doesn't try to finish his sentence. He doesn't try to look at Ryan.

“I'm not just some dumb dude you're fucking. We live together you...”

“I know.” Ryan doesn't move. Doesn't try to say anything that could make Austin feel better.

“The front desk doesn't have ice packs.” Austin says quietly, “I asked when I got the first aid kit.”

Austin absentmindedly runs his thumb against the scars on his arm. Ryan notices that he uses his nail to leave traces, making them ever more obvious. He remembers the needle and the pills and the too many times he'd seen Austin drink to make himself feel better.

“I ran into him in the elevator.” Ryan admits against his better judgement, “There's no ice machine on our floor so I was going up and he had ice packs and-”

“He gets to make sure you're okay.” Austin has a spare elastic around his wrist and he snaps it against his skin as he talks. “Does he think it's your maxillary bone or is he waiting for a ct scan to make sure?” He adds sarcastically.

“Stop. Don't be-”

“Don't tell me what to do.”  
“Just...” Ryan's eyes are focussed on the rubber band Austin keeps snapping against his skin, “Stop fucking hurting your arm.”

“What are you gonna do.” Austin rolls his eyes, “Shove me up against a wall again? Squeeze my arm so tight you leave bruises? Threaten to knock me out? Fuck you don't pretend.”

“I can't deal with you.” Ryan groans and starts to rub a hand over his face before he remembers the bruises.

“Is that why you've gone to him three times now.” Austin's eyes narrow and he stands up, “Because you can't deal with me.”

“Chill dude fuck. You're a doctor act like it.” Ryan tries to say because Austin getting more and more worked up and they're in a hotel room with people in the rooms around them; where his family who have rooms down the hall can hear them.

“You chose me.” Austin states like he's trying to convince both of them, “You broke up with him to be with me.”

“We have... I'm not gonna like... I didn't make good choices and I think it's not gonna-” Ryan tries to get the words floating in his head to come out of his mouth in full sentences but he's too busy staring at Austin, making sure he's not about to do anything else stupid to concentrate.

Austin stares at him too as he talks and his eyes narrow. The dark circles that have been permanently etched into the pale skin under his eyes by one too many 36 hour shifts are more pronounced. The waist band of Austin's boxer's briefs has slid down past his hip bones and Ryan sees angry red cuts against the skin. He wonders how he missed them the day before.

“I'm a bad choice?” Austin hits the lamp on the desk with his hand and sends it crashing against the wall, “I'm your boyfriend. He's not. That was your choice. You did it by yourself.”

Ryan takes a step back towards the door. His backpack with his passport and his laptop and everything that really matters is on the ground near the door to the hallway and his medals are with his dad. He wants to run out but knows Austin will probably follow him because they're just fighting not broken up.

“Your hand's bleeding dude.” Ryan points out trying to stay calm.

“Yeah? So was your face and you didn't let me help how does it feel?”

“This isn't good. Like...” Ryan points between them, “Like I don't know what those are on your hip but like that's not healthy and you're not good dude... You need help.”

“I don't need help. I need a boyfriend who's not fucking cheating on me with his ex.” Austin scoffs. His hand is dripping blood onto the shattered glass covered table top of the desk. “I'm a doctor I'm fine.”

“We can't.” Ryan sighs, “We gotta break up dude.”

“We gotta break up.” Austin immitates Ryan's tone, “Fuck you no. It's not that easy.”

“I don't want to be with you anymore.” Ryan says it clearly.

“We were fine yesterday.” Austin leans his already bleeding hand against the shards of glass on the desk, “Yesterday you wanted to be with me.”

“No,” Ryan shakes his head. He sees Austin press harder against the desk and walks over.

Ryan grabs Austin's wrist with less force then he wants to and pulls his hand away from the glass. There are cuts over his palm and over his fingers and more blood than Ryan wants to look at. There's a sweatshirt on the floor and Ryan uses it to wrap up Austin's hand. He puts pressure on it with his palm and bows his head because he doesn't want to look at Austin.

“Can't we figure this out at home.” Austin's voice is quiet again, “We go back tomorrow like once we're not here and not with all these people and it's just us...”

“No.” Ryan says, “I'm not flying back to Gainesville. We're over.” He lets go of Austin's hand

“What?” Austin replaces the pressure of Ryan's palm with his own.

“Press.” Is all Ryan says.

“You're not coming home?” Austin tries to understand, “This is it.”

“It's over dude.” Ryan shakes his head, “You like stay here... I'll go crash somewhere. Just like... Don't do anything. I'm not worth it. This.” He motions between both of them, “Isn't worth it... We're like not good.”

“Don't go. I'm sorry don't leave.” Austin pleads, “Ry... Come on.”

“I can't.” Ryan considers offering to stay to make sure Austin is safe until morning but he can't bring himself to be that kind. “Dev'll get your stuff out and just...” Ryan has his backpack close but his suitcase is at the other end of the room next to the closet and Austin's blocking his way, “Don't come back to my house.”

“Asshole.” Austin's tone is angry again, “I didn't ask to move in with you, you asked me. You did... It was all you. You hurt everyone Ryan. Fuck you.” Austin throws the bloody sweatshirt at him. “Fuck you.”

*

Ryan doesn't wait for the elevator, he runs down three flights of stairs, jumping them four at a time. He listens for the door because he's sure Austin's following him. He doubts Austin will just quietly go back to bed. He desperately hopes that Devon hasn't told Austin his room number.

Ryan also hopes that Devon's not mad enough to keep him locked out. There's only so much Ryan's willing to admit to his sisters or his mom.

He knocks and dials Devon's cell at the same time. One ring and three knocks later Devon opens the door.

“You look good.” Devon notes, “Are you too drunk to find your room again because-”

“I broke up with Austin.” Ryan doesn't waste time, “He's like... I couldn't stay in that room. Let me in.”

“You what?” Devon grabs Ryan's arm and pulls him into the room. He locks and deadbolts it behind his brother.

“Broke up.” Ryan says again. He walks over to Devon's bed and falls back into it, toeing his shoes off. “You were right he's-”

“Got problems, dude like s'he gonna come?”

“Does he know where you are?” Ryan punches one of Devon's pillows down and buries the unhurt side of his face in it.

“No.” Devon hops on the bed next to Ryan. “Here.”

Ryan feels something cold press against the side of his face. The relief is instantaneous and he groans. He presses it under his eyes.

“Thanks.” He tells Devon, “I'm gonna crash here. Thanks bro.”

Devon lays down beside him and flips on his back staring at the ceiling, “Why d'you do it now Ry?”

“I fucked up.”

“You can still make it work dude like with-”

“Don't.” Ryan reaches blindly behind him to shove Devon a little, “I can't.”

“He would-”

“Stop.”

Devon stays quiet. He pulls the blankets up and covers Ryan with them. He rubs Ryan's arm for a second before laying back down.

“I'm sorry Dev.” Ryan whispers like they're still kids and talking way past when they should have already been sleeping.

“S'ok like... You got it. Sleep dude. When's your flight out?”

“Ten.” Ryan groans, “Fuck my face.”

“I'll call a lock guy... Get him to change out the house and he won't be able to get back in... I'll put his stuff to the curb and like he can come get it before the dump truck passes.”

“You don't have to... Chill in DB until I get back I don't wanna have you-” Ryan moves the ice from his face and cranes his neck around to look at his brother.

“No it's cool. You got me, I got you. So like I got you.” Devon grabs the ice and puts it back on Ryan's face.  
“I don't deserve that.” Ryan whispers again.

“You don't.” Devon laughs, “But like I love you it's whatever.”

*

When Ryan leaves Devon's room to go catch the car for the airport the next morning. Devon takes the elevator up to Michael's room. He finds him packing for a different flight later on that evening.

“He dumped him.” Devon says, “Like they're over it's why he's-”

Michael pretends not to hear, he keeps throwing shirts in his suitcase and wrapping phone chargers and laptop chords to shove in his backpack.

“He wants to be with you.” Devon says again, like Michael's too stupid to understand. When Michael keeps ignoring him, Devon climbs on his bed and stands over his suitcase, “Dude. He was in my room. He wants to be-”

“I know.” Michael slaps Devon's leg, “He was up here. I said no. Can you just-”

“You said no?” Devon kicks away at Michael's hand, “He asked you to get back together and you said no?”

Michael nods and keeps packing, he pushes Devon's foot out of the way and Devon looses his balance and falls back on the bed.

“Fuck dude.” Devon groans, “Ry can't be okay.”

*

“Holy shit your face.” Erika calls out in horror as soon as she sees Ryan “What happened?”

“You're suppose to say it doesn't look that bad.” Ryan tries to play it off as he thanks the doorman and shoulders his backpack.

“What happened to your face Ryan?” Erika asks him again in what he assumes is her sternest voice.

“Head rush in the shower.” Ryan lies, “The steam and I passed out,” he throws his backpack into the car ahead of himself. “Whatever you want it to be I don't care. Dev and I were being dumb. I hit on the wrong girl in the bar.”

He avoids her stare and pushes his baseball cap further down his face. He unlocks his iphone and swipes his thumb across the screen not really doing anything, just trying to look busy.

“What happened?” She asks him again.

“Did it make the papers?” He asks her back with attitude because he's not paying her to be his mom or his babysitter.

“No but how am I going to-“

“Don't worry about it then.”

“Is it Au-”

“Stop.” He interrupts her. “You have no idea what you're talking about.”

“Is it Michael?” She talks too fast for him to jump in, “I swear to God Ryan, if this is Michael and you're not telling me and I have to deal with his people I will book you for-”

“Do you have Ambien?” He interrupts her, “I slept like shit last night I need to-”

“Where are your medals?” Erika looks at his one backpack panicked, “Where's your stuff? Your suitcase? Your suit? Your medals Ryan.”

“Not here.” He goes back to focussing on his phone, “Can't get 'em.”

“I'm not your babysitter Ryan.” Her voice takes on the edge of panic that usually means he's about to get yelled at. “ Where are your bags?”

“Don't know.”

“You don't have your medals?”

“Nope.” He laughs at a text Devon's sent him, “No medals, no luggage, no suit. I got my passport though that's like important.”

“Stop the car.” Erika yells at the driver. “Stop the car I don't care.”

“We're gonna miss our flight.” Ryan points out, “You're gonna be super mad if you miss our flight.”

“Go back.” Erika orders, “Go back and get your things.”

“I can't.” He tells her, “Get someone else to like drag it along with them. Conor or whoever. I don't care.”

“Go back.” She repeats. “Go back to your room and get your things. You can't do press without your things.”

“I can't do press with my face like this. So it doesn't really matter.”

“What do you want to do Ryan?” She says exasperated, “Let's just make this easy and tell me what you want.”

“I want an Ambien.” He answers simply even though his real answer is a mile long. He doesn't want to be in this car, he doesn't want to be going to somewhere that isn't Gainesville. He wants to go back three days, six months or maybe a year and change fucking everything. He doesn't want to feel like a fuck up for the first time he doesn't want to be himself.

“I want you to go back and get your things." Erika orders.

“I can't go back.” He looks up from his phone for the first time, “I need to just move on. Go.”

As the car drives away, Ryan finds himself counting windows up and sideways trying to figure out if he can find Michael's and thinks about how cool it would be to find it and wave and maybe get something to help out the hope that had given him the strength to break it off with Austin.

It's raining and the drops on the windows blur everything. Before long Ryan stops trying to count the windows and focuses on the drops of water making their way across the car window. He traces their lines with his thumb and then drops his head because his face is seriously killing him.

He hears Erika digging through her purse but he pretends that she's not there until she holds out a pill bottle to him.

"Headrush." She says, "You hit your face against the bed."


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not real. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you read it and don't like it go take a walk. It's fanfiction not the Gospel Truth. Save your hate.

 

_“We all are constantly in limbo_   
_Win or lose ‘cause if you fall_   
_You’re bound to learn a thing or two”_

**August**

"Police officers responded to a domestic disturbance call at the Gainesville home of Olympian Ryan Lochte earlier this evening.”  

 Michael stops shaving the second he hears Ryan’s name. He stares at himself in the mirror for a few seconds before he walks out of the bathroom, shaving cream still dripping from his razor, to be able to see the television. The screen is frozen on a shot of the outside of Ryan’s house.

“A man was taken into police custody,” The TMZ reporter continues,  “but later released without being charged. Lochte who was not home at the time of the arrest could not be reached for a statement. His home has been broken into before but the-”

“You know him right?” The girl sitting on his bed asks.

After London, Michael had found himself at a loss of where to go so when his friend had suggested a trip to the Seychelles he’d jumped at the chance. Anything, he’d thought, to get away from those disastrous last days in London; anything to get away from his house in Baltimore that still had too much of Ryan’s stuff in it and anything to forget the empty apartment in New York City.

 “You know him right?”  The girl repeats. “Who d’you think it was?”

The manager of the resort club in the Seychelles had picked her out for him. She’d been waiting for him in the VIP area of the club unimpressed by who he was but pleasant nonetheless. She was hot and made him laugh. She’d spent that night in his room and when he’d proposed going to Mexico a few days later she’d agreed.

Michael still has shaving cream dripping from his face but the girl is already dressed and ready for dinner. Her high-heeled feet are dangling off the edge of the bed while she sips a beer. She’d turned on TMZ while he finished getting ready.

 “I dunno.” Michael ducks back into the bathroom to finish shaving. “We’re not friends.”

“They’re saying he’s gay.” She calls out, “D’you think?”   
  
Michael turns on the tap as high as it will go and lets the sound of the water hitting the sink drown out her words.  He tries to keep his hand steady as he finishes to shave but he cuts his chin. He swears as blood stained shaving cream drips down to the sink.

He reaches for his cell phone before he bothers to wipe his hands. He smears the screen with shaving cream and wipes it off on his towel. He scrolls through his contacts for the home line at Ryan’s house. Because of Devon he tells himself as he tries to not notice he still knows the area code of Gainesville by heart. Ryan’s not even home, he repeats, you’re calling for Devon.

“Babe?” The girl calls out, “Our reservations are for six right?”

“Yeah.” Michael replies. He wipes the rest of the shaving cream off his face with a towel even though he’s just half shaved. He takes his phone off speaker and listens to it ring until the answering machine picks up.

He hangs up without leaving a message and dials Devon’s cell phone.   
  
Devon answers after four rings right before his cell phone goes to the answering machine too.

“Yeah?” Devon’s voice is hostile.

“It’s Mike.”

“Shit. Hi. Sorry.” Devon apologizes, “It’s been ringing like off the hook-”

“It’s on TMZ.” Michael says, “I just heard it.”

“You were watching TMZ?” Devon asks incredulous, “Where are you even?”

“Someone else was watching it.” Michael explains, “I caught the part about-”

“Someone else?” Devon cuts him off, “Who?”

“What happened?” Michael ignores Devon’s questions.

The line goes quiet for a bit, Michael can hear dog nails scrapping against hardwood floors from Devon’s end. He absentmindedly hopes his own dogs are still all right with his sister.

“Dude.” Devon sighs, “I can’t tell you. That’s Ry’s business and you an him aren’t anymore.”

“It’s my business if they start saying he’s gay.” Michael retorts, “Then it’s my business because if he’s going to drag me into it I can’t-”

“Yeah?” Devon gets angry, “Yo you don’t think it sucks that you’re out there with chicks you meet at clubs and goin’ everywhere? You think that’s cool? Whatever Ry did he never like put it out there. You’re-”

“I just want to know-”

“Ryan owes you shit.” Devon says still angry, “He fucking like… You wanted to be with him and he was like gonna- D’you know what you fucking-”

“You don’t know-” Michael tries to stay calm.

“You don’t get to know.” Devon says shortly. “If you want to know call Ry.”

“Dev.” Michael says calmly because he can’t really afford to alienate the last member of Ryan’s family still willing to talk to him, “What happened?”

“He was gonna get back with you.” Devon says quietly, “You don’t even know what… You gotta.”

“I don’t have to.” Michael cuts him off. “Was it Austin?”

 “No shit. We changed the locks. He couldn’t get in.”

“Why d’you call the cops if he couldn’t get in?” Michael remembers forgetting the lock combination to the gate in front of Ryan’s home and being stranded in Gainesville for hours until Ryan had been done with practice. Being broken into by crazy girls one time too many had made Ryan more vigilant about home security.

“He said he had a gun."

“He had a fucking gun?”

“Doubt it.” Devon says and Michael can almost see him shrug. 

“What d’you tell ‘em when they showed up?”

 “That he didn’t live here-”

 “You didn’t say-”

 “I didn’t out Ry.” Devon says disgusted, “If you think I would you’re-“

 “So he was just released?” Michael can’t believe it, “He had a gun at your house and you didn’t-”

 “I didn’t tell ‘em.” Devon admits, “I didn’t wanna… I don't know how far I can push this without outing Ry.” Devon admits, “I don’t wanna fuck it up more."  
  
"Dude he has a gun-" Michael tries to rationalize.  
  
"He says he has a gun-" Devon argues, “He’s a fucking liar- cops didn’t find one.”  
  
"You really wanna test that Dev?” Michael interrupts and he wishes he didn’t care so much about Ryan’s brother,  “Dude come here if its-" He offers without thinking.  
  
"I gotta work I can't leave. I got community service to do.”  
  
"Dude a shift at Grog isn't worth-"   
  
"You sound like Ry." Devon says.

 “Yeah well you should listen to-” Michael stops himself before he says the name.

 “You’re both worse than my mom.” Devon groans.

 “Just stay safe.” Michael says because no matter how hard he’s trying to forget how he felt about Ryan he knows Ryan would never get over anything happening to Devon. “You can come out with me for real.”

 “You got another stripper waiting there for me? No thanks.” Devon says, “Ry’s gonna be home in like a week and I gotta be here.”

 “He’s making you stay?” Michael asks surprised Ryan would tell Devon to stay somewhere that wasn’t safe.

 “No he told me to leave but I got stuff to do. I can’t leave.”

 “Labour day weekend’s my retirement party.” Michael offers, “Vegas… I’ll fly you in.”

 “With the strippers or-“

 “Come on dude quit busting my balls.”

 “It’s kind of my job.” Devon reminds him, “Seriously though you’ll fly me in?”

 “Yeah come party. I won’t get in a fight.”

 “I won’t have to hold an ice pack to your drunk face?”

 “Hopefully not.”

 Michael hears the television being turned off and a beer bottle being rested down on the table near the door. He finishes shaving while still holding the phone but neither Devon nor him talk.

 “Babe?” The girl calls out from outside the bathroom door, “We have to go soon.”

 Michael wants to pretend that Devon wasn’t able to hear her.

 “Call Ry.” Devon asks, “Please.” 

“I can’t.”

“Yeah you won’t” Devon sighs, “Whatever dude, enjoy the stripper I heard her, you gotta go.”

“It’s not-”

“It totally is. Bye dude.”

Devon hangs up before Michael can get another word in.

Michael drops the phone on the counter and dabs at his still bleeding chin with the back of his hand. He stares at himself in the mirror and shakes his head.

“Yeah sorry.” He says before he opens the door to let her in, “I cut myself.” He tips his head up to show her.

“Aw.” She pouts and stands on her tiptoes to examine his chin, “You might live.”

“Yeah maybe.” He tips his head back down.

“Did you really want to go eat?” The girl jumps up to sit on the counter, she wraps her legs around his waist, “Or did you want to stay here? It was lonely today without you.”

“Yeah?” Michael runs his hand up her leg and over her thigh and under her dress, “What d’you do?”

“Went swimming naked.” She smirks, “We could go now.”

“You’re dressed though.” He says.

“It comes off.” She smiles and guides his hand to the side zipper of her dress, “Easy.”  

What’s easy is pretending that this is what he wants. Easy to show his friends that he’s fine, that he’s moving on and that Ryan is history.

“See.” The girl says once he’s unzipped her dress. She pulls at the towel he has knotted around his waist, “Now we’re both going to be late.”

Two weeks after London, he can go a full day without thinking about Ryan and he usually doesn’t spend his nights awake thinking about him. After the phone conversation with Devon though Ryan is all he can think about. Awake in the dark, his arm wrapped around the girl’s naked waist, Michael can’t help but count all the things that would be different if he had said yes. He can rewind time to London and play around with his actions. He can rewind things past London, six… nine… ten… fourteen months back and rework things out. Figure out where things could have been changed.

Michael doesn’t regret saying no. The Ryan he wanted to be with hadn’t been the Ryan standing in his room and the relationship he wanted wasn't the one that would have happened. Because as easy as it was to think that everything could be fixed Michael knew it couldn’t; that they’d spent years fucking it up without trying to actually fix it.

It hadn’t taken a genius to figure out they weren’t going to work out. The relationship had started to feel forced months before Ryan had injured his shoulder. Michael would leave his phone in his locker at Meadowbrooks and even after he was done practice for the day he would let Ryan’s text messages go unanswered. Before living apart hadn’t mattered. They would text from the moment they woke up until one of them fell asleep but as Beijing got further behind them and London crept closer it had stopped.  It was easier to forget what being together felt like.

The girl moves until her head is resting against his chest. Her hair is in his face and it annoys him. He tries to turn on his side but she won’t move.

Michael had figured it out on New Years.

 On New Years right after Ryan had hung up Michael had ducked back into the house.

 He knows Ryan and he had guessed why Ryan had been trying to apologize. In the ten years he’d known him Ryan had never called him crying. Not being with Ryan for New Years Eve had been tough to start off with, Michael hadn’t made any plans other than being with his family. After Ryan’s phone call though he’d felt empty.

 His friends were puzzled when he showed up to the club forty-five minutes into the New Year. Michael had flirted with the VIP waitress assigned to their table until she’d given him her number. Afterwards, he’d rescued her from having to stay behind and help clear out by tipping the manager. He’d woken up the next morning to the sound of her trying to find the bra he’d tossed somewhere the night before. She had left without saying goodbye. He’d bought his plane ticket to Gainesville before flipping back on his stomach to sleep off his hangover.

 Whatever Michael had assumed Ryan had done on New Years Eve had been confirmed when he’d gotten to Gainesville. He’d shown up as a surprise and Ryan had been more annoyed than anything else. Michael had known they were over the second he’d seen how happy Ryan was when they’d picked Austin up from the hospital.

 They should have ended it that weekend. Should have broken up in Ryan’s car on the way to the airport. Michael knows he should have admitted he’d cheated but when Ryan had blatantly lied to his face about Austin he hadn’t been able to be honest either. Somehow they had still both hung on and Michael had been convinced that Ryan wanted them to work out as much as he did.

 The house-hunting trip had been a desperate bid to fix the future part of their relationship. Michael had had no idea how to deal with the problems they were having then but buying a house and having somewhere to live together after London had felt like placing a concrete milestone months into the future. After London they could be together there. After London Ryan could move away from Austin. Buying a house seemed to be an easy fix. Michael convinced himself that once Ryan and him were together everything would be okay.

 He’d gone out for a friend’s birthday the night after coming home from Florida. Someone’s wife had a single friend with blonde hair who’d just come back from a modeling gig in Thailand. She’d been wearing a Raven’s hoodie, borrowed because she had no warm clothes she’d laughed. Michael had joked that if she needed to be warm he could help her out. Her skin had felt freezing cold against his the entire night. The next morning she’d made him breakfast while wearing one of his flannel shirts. They’d gone back out that night and his friends hadn’t asked questions. His friends didn’t miss Ryan.

 He’d rationalized that he could cheat because Ryan was. That whatever happened everything would be okay after London. Everything would work itself out once they picked a house and bought furniture. Once they woke up in the same bed everyday things would be okay.

 They hadn’t found a house together that weekend. Things had been strained but they had both kept pushing forward. They’d talked about having kids, for real this time. Ryan had gone back to Florida without making a final decision on a house or even a state they both wanted to live in. Ryan hadn’t even thought of selling his house.

 So Michael had pushed forward without Ryan. They’d never talked about moving to New York City but Michael knew Ryan liked it. So when his realtor had called to offer him early access to a place that wasn’t on the market yet Michael had decided to go see the place without Ryan.

 It had roof top access and three spare bedrooms. There was security, two ovens and a nanny suite.  It wasn’t that far from Central Park and the owners had accepted Michael’s lowball offer because of who he was. Michael had figured that once Ryan saw their new house he’d be okay with moving to New York.

 The papers had gone through on Valentine’s Day and Michael had never gone back to see it. The keys were still in the drawer of his desk at his place in Baltimore. He hid them because he was ashamed he’d believed that hard in something Ryan had obviously not wanted.  

 He pushes the girl’s shoulder to get her off his chest and to get his arm free. He sits up and walks out of the bedroom.

He can’t get over it and part of him doesn’t want to. How is he supposed to recalculate his entire life without Ryan in it? This was supposed to be the set point for the rest of their lives. They’d spent years building towards what they would do after London.  It’s hard to accept that a few months of regrettable choices on both their parts had burned it all away.

He doesn’t know how to start moving on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from "Lonely Mexico" by Dylan Owen. There would be no sequel to DTW if it weren't for his Keep Your Friends Close EP. 
> 
> There would also be no sequel to this without mugglemiranda who not only got me through last year but who somehow keeps my ideas neatly organized. She should be paid a salary for the work that she does.


	3. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's not real. If you don't like it, don't read it. If you read it and don't like it go take a walk. It's fanfiction not the Gospel Truth. Save your hate.

_I’ve always been a traveler  
A backpack and dusty mirror kind of kid  
Shoulder centric hoping heaven takes him type of shit_

 

  
Ryan has a migraine.  
  
He’s faked smile his way through three interviews already today, joking away his bruised face as yet another one of his clumsy accidents. He chuckles as hosts read down his laundry list of injuries and play them off like they were nothing. He has to fight the urge not to snap when one host laughs off a concussion. He tells himself that she has no way of knowing it had taken him a day to remember his own name and where he was. She can laugh because she hadn’t seen how worried his dad had looked.  
  
He’s in the green room of a late night talk show trying to sleep. He tries to forget that Devon is alone in Gainesville with Austin on the loose. He tries to forget that the arrest was on TMZ and all Austin has to do is call up any newspaper, tabloid, blogger or pap to just sell his story for everything to come crashing down.  
  
He puts his sweater over his face to block out the emergency exit light and the stabbing pain behind his eyes fades a little. He can’t remember what combination of pill he has to take to make his migraine go away or where the bottles are. He doubts Erica will go back for them.  
  
He sleeps for half an hour before someone flips all the lights in the room on and pulls the sweater off his face.  
  
“The cops Ryan?!” Erica yells at him, “The cops were at your house?! They arrested Austin?”  
  
“Yeah.” Ryan cups a hand over his eyes and tries to blink the pain away. He’s vaguely aware of what she’s saying. Cops. Austin. House. He can figure it out.   
  
“I have to find out about it on TMZ?” She says incredulous, “How am I suppose- A day later Ryan? A whole day?”  
  
“I don’t care.” Ryan mumbles before closing his eyes again, “They don’t know who he is… Just-”  
  
“Just what Ryan? Just relax? Your boyfriend-” She continues angered  
  
“Not my boyfriend.”  
  
“Is arrested at your house?” Erica keeps ploughing through her rant, “Did you even tell him before you left he couldn’t come back? Did you-”  
  
“No.” Ryan opens one eye to look at her, “I just left.”  
  
“I didn’t ask about your face Ryan.” She snaps, “But this made the news.”  
  
“Chill. Fuck.” He snaps before turning to face the couch, “Go away.”  
  
“Is that what you want Ryan?” she threatens, “You want to deal with this on your own?”  
  
“There’s nothing to deal with.” He argues, “It’s fixed okay he’s not gonna come back.”  
  
“Did you let him get his stuff?” Erica keeps asking questions, “Does he still have keys?”  
  
“His stuff’s in… Devon can throw it to the curb…”  
  
“You don’t think they won’t be watching your house? You know what word they used on TMZ Ryan?”  
  
“I didn’t watch so-”  
  
“Boyfriend.”  
  
He opens his eyes again and sits up.  
  
“Who the fuck cares?” He groans.  
  
“That’s the story you want me to give?” She threatens. “That’s the story you want me to-“  
  
“Let ‘em talk.” Ryan waves his hand at her before putting it back over his eyes, “Who the fuck cares. I don’t care.”  
  
Erica starts to speak again but Ryan’s phone cuts her off. He pulls it out of his pocket and sees Austin’s name.  
  
“Fuck.” He says, “I’m gonna need another phone number.”  
  
He ignores the call and five seconds later, it rings again. He ignores it one more time but Austin persists.  
  
“Just close your phone Ryan.” Erica tells him, her voice slightly kinder. “We’ll change your number tomorrow.”  
  
Ryan shakes his head, “No Dev needs to be able to call me.”  
  
“He can call me.”  
  
“He won’t call you.” Ryan reasons, “Fuck I hope he’s not.”  
  
He ignores another one of Austin’s calls and quickly dials home.  
  
“What are you doing?” Erica asks. She looks worriedly at her watch and then at the call sheet in her hand, “You have to go to makeup you can’t be-”  
  
“What if he goes back?!” Ryan starts to panic, “Devon’s got to know that-“  
  
“Ryan.” Erica puts her hand on his arm, “Calm down. Nothing’s going to happen. He’s not gonna go back if he got arrested.”  
  
Ryan’s phone goes off again. It’s still Austin.  
  
“I’ll call Devon.” Erica reassures, “Go to makeup, I’ll call Devon. Here…” She scrambles through her purse and pulls out a pill container. She empties half of it into the cap and pulls out four pills. “Take these together. Drink coffee.”  
  
Once the interview starts, Ryan has a hard time paying attention to the questions. He fakes a smile and laughs too much. He gets annoyed when the actress he’s sitting next to keeps making jokes to his expense and finally snaps at her. He knows he’s not doing what he’s suppose to do that he’s not giving the answers Erica had him rehearse. He knows he’s doing everything wrong but he doesn’t fucking care.  
  
“You had a fan get arrested at your house.” The host laughs, trying to ease the tension on set. “Trying to get in… Does that happen to every Olympian? It seems to happen a lot to you, I hear it’s not the first time.”  
  
“It’s not cool when people put my family in danger.” Ryan answers seriously, “Like that’s really not cool.”  
  
During the commercial break he drinks water and stealthily pulls his phone out of his pocket. He has 30 missed calls from Austin and ten from Devon. Devon’s sent more text messages and private twitter messages but before Ryan can read them the producer counts them back from break.  
By the time he’s able to check his cellphone again there are fifteen more missed calls from Devon. Ryan doesn’t bother checking his voicemail he just dials.  
  
“Fucking finally.” Devon says, “Check your phone much?”  
  
“I couldn’t.” Ryan says.  
  
“He’s in our fucking driveway dude.” Devon sounds scared, “He has a fucking gun I can see it.”  
  
“Get out.” Ryan’s heart beats faster, “Call the cops an take the dogs and go-”  
  
“Yo are you not listening he’s outside. With a gun. Not outside the gate. Outside the house.”  
  
“I’m calling the cops.” Ryan decides. “Stay inside. I’ll call you back.”  
  
“No no no no.” Devon spits out fast, “Don’t hang up dude, please don’t hang up.”  
  
“Devon.” Ryan tries to keep his voice steady.  
  
“He fucking tried both doors dude. He doesn’t… I don’t even know…”  
  
Ryan tries not to think about Devon hiding in the house for twenty minutes with Austin walking around with a gun.  
  
“He says he’s just gonna shoot himself but like… Dude if he does then like… It’s bad Ry. Fuck.” Devon whispers. “What if he comes in?”  
  
“I’m calling the cops Dev, you’re not safe. He shoots a window and he’s-”  
  
“Yo you think he’s gonna shoot a window?!” Devon’s voice gets high.  
  
“He’s not gonna come in.” Ryan tries to be reassuring. “You gotta-“  
  
“How d’you know”  
  
“Where are you?” Ryan walks back towards the green room ignoring everyone around him.  
  
“Your closet.” Devon says, “S’got no windows. Dogs are with me.”  
  
Ryan locks the door of the green room. He paces the short distance between the door and the couch and tries to think.  
  
“You still there?” Devon asks.  
  
“Yeah.” Ryan tries to think, “He called me a bunch earlier and I didn’t answer Erica was supposed to call you to say to leave did she?”  
  
“No.” Devon says, “I was watching tv when he tried to door. He knows I’m in here.”  
  
“I gotta call him.” Ryan says.  
  
“Ry. No.” Devon pleads.  
  
“Call him or call the cops dude. One or the other. Don’t hang up.”  
  
“You don’t hang up.” Devon insists.  
  
There’s a landline in the green room and Ryan hopes it dials straight out because he doesn’t have time to figure out which number he needs to press to get an outside line. He drops his cell phone trying to find Austin’s cell number but the landline connects without him having to press any extra buttons.  
  
 “Calm down.” Ryan interrupts Austin halfway through saying hello, “I’m not home. Leave Devon alone.”  
  
“That’s what it takes for you to call back.” Austin laughs, “I just had to show up back hom-”  
  
“It’s not your home.”  
  
“All my shit is still there Ryan. You locked me out and all my stuff- My car’s in the fucking driveway.”  
  
Austin sounds out of breath and agitated. Ryan can hear the fan of his air conditioner droning on close by and at least he knows Austin is standing on the side of the house opposite where Devon is hiding. If Devon wanted to he could make it out faster than Austin could get to the gate.  
  
“Take your car.” Ryan forces himself to breathe. He’s never been this angry. “You got your car keys leave.”  
  
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Austin snaps, “Don’t fucking tell me-”  
  
“You’re fucking threatening Devon!”  
  
“Got your attention.” Austin says, “Got you to talk to me.”  
  
“We broke up.” Ryan repeats, “Not together, you don’t get to call. You want your shit you fucking ask.”  
  
“You can’t just say it’s over and then it’s done.” Austin says.  
  
“Leave or-” Ryan answers, he has zero interest in fighting with Austin, he cares even less about talking about getting back together, “We’re done. Look at what you’re doing! Who the fuck does this?!”  
  
“You can’t just… We were… I came back and…” Austin stammers, “We’ve been together.”  
  
“Take your car and fucking leave.” Ryan repeats, “Or I’m calling the cops. That’s it.”  
  
“No come home.” Austing begs, “I’m sorry.”  
  
“Leave or I’m calling the cops.” Ryan tells him again. Ryan moves his cell phone away from the landline receiver because he doesn’t want Devon to be able to hear the rest.  
  
“Devon’s not letting you in the house.” Ryan reminds him, “You leave or I call the cops again.”  
  
“You won’t call the cops again.” Austin defies, “Cause then you gotta explain who I am. I say I never had a gun. I say I’m a Doctor and we were dating and you locked me out. We had a fight in London and you hurt me. That you do it all the time.”  
  
“I say.” Ryan puts his hand over the mic of his iPhone, “You tried to kill yourself. I tell them you’re stalking me. I tell them you threatened Devon. I tell them you’re standing in my fucking drive way with a gun. Who the fuck does that? What the fuck Aust?”  
  
The nickname slips out before Ryan catches. He regrets it all. He can guess how Austin had actually gotten the bruises the day in the gym.  
  
“Just come home.” Austin begs, “Just I won’t hurt Devon I’m sorry I scared him… I wouldn’t. I don’t wanna do this.”  
  
“Do what?” Ryan asks cautiously. His heart pounds in his chest, he can’t handle being this far away from Devon while he’s in danger.  
  
“What am I supposed to do?” Austin asks, “I put everything in this… I thought… you loved me. You said it.”  
  
“It’s over.” Ryan tells him, he knows he shouldn’t have called, “You have to go.”  
  
“You won’t call the cops.” Austin says.  
  
“You’re in my driveway with a gun.”  
  
“It’s my house too.” Austin states, “All my shit is-“  
  
“We’ll give you your stuff. We’ll pack it up just go.” It’s Ryan’s turn to beg, “Get your car and fucking go. Leave Devon alone.”  
  
“Are you back with him? Is that it? You used me?!”  
  
“No.” Ryan has no intentions of bringing Michael up, “No.”  
  
“I can break a window.” Austin threatens, “I don’t need the door to get in.”  
  
Ryan had ignored all the warning signs Devon had warned him about. He’d had so many opportunities to back out and not go through with this relationship and yet he had.  
  
He can’t even start to count the things he’d given up for Austin. He’d given up the future Michael and him had spent years planning, things they’d dreamt up together; having kids and teaching them to play football, family vacations and fishing trips.  
  
 **Gainesville, July 2009**  
  
“So.” Ryan hands a plate to Michael before flipping open the lid of the first pizza box.  
  
Ryan is wearing board shorts and high tops but no shirt. He has a hat pulled down over his curls which have been sticking up everywhere since the morning.  
  
Michael is sure he hasn’t worn his own clothes in over three days. Ryan’s closet is the only part of his life that is freakishly organized but he doesn’t mind sharing. Ryan also wouldn’t mind if Michael didn’t wear clothes at all but Michael is sure Devon who’s been in and out of the house all week would have some reservations.  
  
They’ve just gotten back from Indiana and somehow Ryan had talked Michael into switching his ticket to follow him back to Florida. Ryan had said that there was no way he could wait until his birthday to see Michael again. He’d used his best face and pouted and called it an adventure. All Michael had needed was the invitation.  
  
“What?” Michael asks once it becomes clear that Ryan isn’t going to finish his own sentence without prompt.  
  
“Like.” Ryan stops to think. He takes a bite out of his pizza and chews thoughtfully while looking at Michael, “Would you have kids?”  
  
“What now?”  
  
“With me?”  
  
“Now?”  
  
“Yeah I’m pregnant.” Ryan rolls his eyes, “Surprise.”  
  
“Fuck you.” Michael rolls his eyes back to him.  
  
“No really though.”  
  
“You’re pregnant?”  
  
“No have kids.”  
  
“That’s not even a sentence.”  
  
“Could we?”  
  
“Not without a chick dude.” Michael shakes his head, “Like I’m sure.”  
  
“But would you.” Ryan asks again.  
  
“Have kids with a girl?” Michael asks pained, “No?”  
  
“With me.” Ryan says like it’s obvious, “I mean some chick and me.”  
  
“Did you get some girl-“ Michael sometimes wonders how Ryan’s brain works.  
  
“No asshole.”  Ryan shakes his head. “I was just sayin’”  
  
“Say it slow.”  
  
“Like in…” Ryan waves his hand, “After.”  
  
They always talk about after. It gives them a way to talk about everything they want to do without having to plan anything. They’d talk about coming out after, they’d move in together after. They’d be more serious about it after. After when they could just be Michael and Ryan and not Swimmers or Celebrities.  
  
Ryan puts another slice of pizza on his plate and heads towards the couch. He sits and balances his plate on his knee while he grabs the PlayStation controller off the floor. He throws it to Michael before reaching for the second one.  
  
“After next Olympics?” Michael offers.  
  
“Yeah after that.” Ryan agrees, “Could we have kids?”  
  
“You want kids with me?” Michael asks bewildered.  
  
“Yeah.” Ryan says softly, “Like I think we’d do okay… We could like adopt or have it like grow in someone else.”  
  
“Grow?”  
  
“Got a better word?” Ryan says with a mouthful of pizza.  
  
Michael doesn’t so he stays quiet. They play video games until the pizza is gone. Ryan has his feet up on Michael’s lap.  
  
“Hypotheric scenario.” Ryan stretches and drops the controller back on the ground, “You an me have kids. What are they gonna be like?”  
  
“Um.” Michael rubs Ryan’s knee, he bends forward to push the pizza box farther from the edge of the coffee table to buy himself more time.  “If they survive?”  
  
“They’d survive.” Ryan assures, “What they be like?”  
  
“Twitchy?” Michael squeezes Ryan’s ankle, rubbing his thumb over a scar, “I feel like we’d fuck them up.”  
  
“No really.” Ryan reaches to pick his controller back up, he exits back to the main screen and starts flicking through mission options.  
  
 “What would our kids be like?” Michael allows himself to speculate before Ryan chooses the next mission, “What d’you think?”  
  
“Awesome.” Ryan says without hesitation, “Like the awesomest.”  
  
“Would we get married?” Michael tries to figure out the most logical steps. He looks at Ryan for an answer.  
  
“Course.” Ryan answers like it’s a fact. “You don’t wanna like.”  
  
“We can’t get married dude.” Michael says sadly, “It’s not like-“  
  
“Doesn’t matter.” Ryan shrugs, “Like whatever we can do is good enough.”  
  
Michael puts down his controller and leans sideways to fall against Ryan.  Ryan starts running his fingers down Michael’s arms.  
  
“I don’t like care.” He says, “What we do I just wanna like you know be together. Like a family.”  
  
“Seriously?” Devon calls out from the kitchen, “Like get a room.”  
  
  
 **Gainesville/New York 2012**  
  
 “The cops are coming Austin.” Ryan decides because he has no other option. He can’t put Devon’s life on the line.  
“Yeah? Then how d’you explain it?” Austin’s voice is cold, “How d’you fucking explain it. People know about us. I can fucking tell everyone about you an me and you an him. That’s worth more to you than… You hang up and I’m-”  
  
Ryan hangs up on him.  
  
“Dev?” He puts his cellphone back up to his face, “Still-“  
  
“Yeah.” Devon’s voice is quiet, “I called the cops.”  
  
“He’s my roommate.” Ryan says, “He’s mad we kicked him out.”  
  
“I know-I”  
  
“I’m coming home tonight.” Ryan bites back his anger to sound normal. “The second he’s out the gate you put the dogs in my car and you drive to DB got it?”  
  
“Dude I don’t wanna-“  
  
“No!” Ryan cuts Devon off harshly, “Fucking listen to what I say. Put the dogs in my car and drive to moms. Don’t stop.”  
  
“Why your car?”  
  
“It has a full tank. I’ll be there tonight or tomorrow. Depends on flights.”  
  
“Can you stay on the phone?” Devon asks, “While the cops are-“  
  
“Yeah.” Ryan reassures, “I just gotta leave here.”  
  
Devon and him don’t talk. Ryan keeps his phone on speaker while he listens to Devon tell the police that Austin had taken his car and left shortly after they’d told him about the cops. He listens to him give his statement while he grabs everything and shoves it in his backpack. He makes sure he has his ID and his wallet before unlocking the door of the green room.  
  
Erica is waiting for him outside the door.  
  
“I have to go home.” He tells her, “Right now.”  
  
He tries to walk past her but she grabs his arm and tries to pull him back.  
  
“Ryan!” Erica says, “You can’t leave. We have to go to LA. We have meetings. There’s… I don’t even know how to tell you Ryan. The show and-“  
  
The meetings in LA are for a reality show he has no interest in doing. He doesn’t see the point of allowing a camera crew to film the mess that is his current life.  
  
“You have to go to the meetings.” Ryan says, “I don’t.”  
  
“So I just go for you and-“  
  
“Yes.” Ryan digs through his bag one last time to make sure he has everything, “I trust you do whatever.”  
  
“Do whatever?” She laughs, “That’s how we’re making decisions now?”  
  
“I don’t have fucking time to. Jesus stop.” He holds a hand up, “You’re fucking-“  
  
“What’s wrong with you?” Erica doesn’t let go of his arm, “There’s things I can’t cancel Ryan. This isn’t part of the plan!”  
  
“Figure it out.” He frees his arms. “I have to go home.”  
  
“You can’t go.” Erica follows him through the hallway.  
  
He ignores her last request as well as the stares of everyone in the hallway. He passes PA’s and the other guests without stopping. There’s  a car waiting for him outside and he steps out of the revolving doors ahead of her, gets in the car and locks the door.  
  
He hears Erica bang on the window but he doesn’t look up. He can’t even be bothered to think about the talk shows he’s missing and the meeting about the reality show he’s not even sure he wants to do but everyone else insists has to happen. He doesn’t even know what he wants to do anymore.  
  
“Hey man.” He tells the driver, “We’re going to the airport, not the hotel cool?”  
  
The driver nods in approval and Ryan slinks back down in his seat.  
  
“Dude.” He hears from his pocket, “You don’t gotta mess up your shit to come home. I’m good.”  
  
“You in the car?” He asks pulling his phone out of his pocket.  
  
“Yeah you didn’t hear your music? Don’t leave your stereo full blast scared me more than what just happened.”  
  
“Got the dogs?”  
  
“Yeah. Wanna talk to them?”  
  
“No.” Ryan can hear Carter scratching against the window, “Drive safe dude call me if something’s up.”  
  
“Tell me which flight you take. I’ll pick you up.” Devon offers, “I love you bro.”  
  
“I love you too. I’m so fucking sorry.”  
  
“It’s okay.” Devon reassures, “I’m good.”  
  
They hang up but Ryan knows nothing is good. He can’t even remember the moment when being with Austin had seemed like a good idea. He can’t think about how differently the day could have gone. He can’t think of Devon getting hurt because of him. He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to force it out of his mind. He reminds himself that Devon is safe driving to their mom’s house.  
  
Nothing is moving fast enough. The car gets trapped in traffic and when it finally drops him off Ryan gets mobbed by paps. Someone from TMZ holds a camera too close to his face and a few more photographers blind him with flashes as he tries to get through the door.  
  
“Anymore crazy fans Ryan?”  
  
“Did you know him Ryan?”  
  
“Is there going to be a restraining order?”  
  
“Did you call the police?”  
  
Ryan pulls his hat low over his face and shoulders his bag. He stares at his feet hoping he doesn’t crash into anything. He won’t ever be able to prove it but he can imagine Erica is behind them being here.  
  
He’s never had paparazzi follow him this closely and he’s never had them follow him into a building but this time they don’t stop at the door.  
  
“What really happened to your face Ryan?”  
  
“Is he your boyfriend?”  
  
“What’s Michael doing?”  
  
He clenches his fists. He knows he can take the man holding the Nikon a foot from his face out. He knows he can tell them to fuck off but he figures that it’s not going to get him to Florida any faster.  
  
They leave him alone once he walks closer to the airline counter but they hover in the background.  There are still seats available on the last flight and he hands over his credit card not caring about the cost. The line for security is long and he forgets to take off his watch going through through the metal detector. Once at his gate he pulls his headphones on to drown out the noise around him. He keeps his stare down because for the first time he doesn’t want to be recognized.    
  
He calls Devon again right before they board just to check in on him. Devon yawns through most of the call and Ryan tells him to pull over to buy something with caffeine in it. Once he knows Devon has mountain dew and only half an hour left to drive he hangs up.  Ryan keeps his phone on until the flight attendant reminds him to turn it off for the third third time. He orders a drink and spends most of his time doodling idly on the napkin. He wishes he had more medication because alcohol doesn’t help the pain at all. He worries that Devon’s wrecked his car in a ditch somewhere or that Austin’s somehow managed to follow him.  
  
He falls asleep briefly and has a nightmare about Devon getting shot.  
  
He can’t go back to sleep afterwards.  
  
Both his brothers are waiting for him at the airport. Ryan hugs Devon tight, relieved to see that he’s okay.  
  
“I’m sorry.” He mutters while he still has Devon in his arms, “Dude you knew.”  
  
“I’m okay.” Devon reassures, “Dude we’re good.” He insists when Ryan still won’t let go of him.  
  
Ryan doesn’t waste time in Daytona Beach. He drops Brandon back home and stops in to say hi to his mom. He has a hard time facing her worried looks and he’s glad that Devon had kept some of the details to himself. He lets his mom make him some food, gathers up the dogs and just a few hours later Devon and him are on their way back to Gainesville.  
  
Devon drives because Ryan can barely look out the window at the oncoming headlights. Devon shuts off the stereo and cranks the AC. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel as he drives and shoots worried glances to Ryan every once in awhile.  
  
“Mom’s like worried about you.” Devon finally says. He merges into the fast line and searches around the centre console for his gum, “Like really.”  
  
“I’m okay.” Ryan answers.  
  
“Yeah you look it.” Devon shakes his head not taking his eyes off the road, “How are you even here, you weren’t suppose to come back for two weeks. No way they let you off the hook like-“  
  
“I fixed it don’t worry.” Ryan lies, “I got it.”  
  
“If you say so.” Devon sounds unconvinced.  
  
Ryan finds a towel on the backseat and he bunches it up against the window to use as a pillow. He tries to find a position that doesn’t hurt his face before closing his eyes. He’s asleep in seconds.  
  
*  
  
When Ryan wakes up the next morning, he vaguely remembers getting home and going to bed. He’s fully dressed on top of his blankets and even though his face stings and he desperately needs to brush his teeth his migraine is gone.  
  
He reaches next to him and pets Carter’s side. He hasn’t seen his dog since before London and as fucked up as the entire situation is it feels good to be home.  
  
Ryan toes off his socks, takes off his pants and climbs under the blankets. He turns on his side and falls back asleep.  
  
He wakes up again mid afternoon. It’s the latest he’s slept in months but he instantly feels better. Carter is no longer next to him and Ryan throws the blankets off and heads to shower.  
  
He’s staring at himself in the mirror, debating whether to shave or not, when Devon knocks.  
  
 “You decent?” Devon asks.  
  
“Yeah.” Ryan decides that shaving over his bruises would hurt too much to be worth it, “I don’t remember getting into bed.”  
  
“I almost had to carry you in.” Devon says sitting up on the counter of Ryan’s bathroom, “Took off your shoes. S’like you were drunk.”  
  
“I wasn’t.”  
  
“I know we were in the car.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“Don’t worry ‘bout it.”  
  
Their conversation feels forced and Ryan hates it. He spits out the mouthwash and stares at Devon.  
  
“You sleep good?” Ryan asks taking mouthwash from under the sink.  
  
“Dude no.” Devon admits, “Just keep waking up… Like he’ll show up.”  
  
Ryan plays with the bottle cap and doesn’t know what to say.  
  
“I’m sorry.” He offers, “I should have thought about it and not let you-“  
  
“You told me to leave.” Devon reminds him, “I stayed.”  
  
“Dude had he done anything to you.” Ryan shakes his head, “Never gonna happen again.”  
  
He takes a shot straight from the bottle and gargles before spitting it out. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.  
  
As he’s putting the mouth wash bottle back under the sink Ryan notices Austin’s towel still hanging on the back of the door. Austin’s shaving kit is still on the counter. He knows Austin’s things are probably still all over his room. All over his house.  
  
“We should throw it in the trash.” Devon says for the both of them.  
  
“We’re gonna put it to the curb.” Ryan decides. “He can come get it before people dig through it or garbage day.”  
  
Devon stares at him for a second before jumping off the counter.  
  
“I’ll get bags.” He says finally, “You do your room. I’ll start downstairs.”  
  
It takes an hour to erase Austin’s presence from the house. Ryan packs up Austin’s medical books, his hair elastics, his clothes and his laptop. Once he brings it downstairs he finds that Devon’s gathered up an even bigger pile.  
  
“That’s our Xbox.” Ryan points out, “I got that.”  
  
“Shit dude.” Devon plucks it off the pile, “I got like carried away.”  
  
There’s no more soy milk in the fridge and no more Lacoste shoes by the entrance. It takes them another fifteen minutes to carry it all from the front of the house to just outside the gate. It’s a relief to walk back into a house that’s no longer filled with Austin’s things.  
  
The relief lasts long enough for Ryan to think about the amount of stuff he’d left in Baltimore over the years. He wonders if Michael had felt equally as relieved getting rid of it.  
  
“I traded my shift.” Devon interrupts Ryan’s daydream, “We can hang if you want. Play Xbox?” He points to the rescued gaming console.  
  
“Yeah.” Ryan nods, pretends he’s alright, “Pick the game, I’m grabbing food.”  
  
“It’s empty.” Devon warns, “I got home like two days ago. Didn’t really have time to-“  
  
“Pizza?” Ryan asks  
  
“Pizza.” Devon agrees.  
  
The pizza delivery guy is the first person to enquire about the pile of stuff outside and Ryan tells him to help himself to anything he wants. He tips him, grabs the pizza and brings it to the living room.  
  
After two hours of playing games with Devon, Ryan starts to feel more like himself. Devon wins the game and Ryan stretches before taking a sip of his mountain dew. He brings the empty pizza box to the kitchen and takes a second to check his phone. He’s been ignoring Erica’s phone call since he’d left her behind in New York. He knows his voicemail has to be full at this point but he doesn’t bother to empty it.  
  
“Ry!” Devon yells from the living room, “RYAN.”  
  
“What’s up?” Ryan walks back from the kitchen.  
  
“There’s another kid digging through his stuff.” Devon lets go of the living room window blinds and they snap shut.  
  
“D’you know him?” Ryan asks. “I don’t care who digs through it.”  
  
“No.” Devon turns back to stare outside their gate, “Dude fuck that’s his car.”  
  
“What?”  
  
“The car. That’s his car.” Devon holds the blinds apart again, “Austin’s beemer. I know the licence plate.”  
  
“Stay here.” Ryan tells Devon.  
  
He doesn’t even think about his own safety. He makes sure the dogs don’t escape as he walks out the front door. He walks towards the gate trying to look intimidating and wishing for the first in his life that he owned a gun.  
  
Austin is nowhere to be seen, instead a kid who can’t be more than twenty is picking up bags and throwing them into the trunk of Austin’s car. He has the same blonde hair and the same awkward lankiness.  
  
“He’s not here.” The kid holds both his hands up, dropping a garbage bag of Austin’s clothes “I’m just here for his stuff I swear. My dad said to… I’m Tyler. Hi.” He offers.  
  
Ryan stops a few feet away from the gate and tries to process the information.  
  
"No.” Ryan says slowly, “He said you died."  
  
Tyler picks up the bag again and holds it halfway between the ground and the car. He stares at Ryan for a while before speaking.  
  
"Austin has like... problems...” Tyler’s voice shakes. He takes a step back from the gate looking scared. “Sometimes and like he's not a bad person... but he just… He’s not good right now. He won’t come back here. I’m just getting his stuff. He should have his stuff.”  
  
“No shit he has problems dude.” Devon unlatches the gate and squeezes himself through to help the kid out. “He waved a gun in my face.”  
  
Ryan hadn’t heard Devon walk up behind him.  
  
“It’s my dads.” Tyler explains, “No bullets, it wasn’t like… He wasn’t gonna do… Austin is misunderstood. Like I'm sorry he...just he's been through a lot and he's a good person. He just doesn't do well being alone. Sorry."  
  
“He told me you were dead.” Ryan repeats, “In a car crash.”  
  
“No.” Tyler looks confused and shakes his head, “He was in a car crash… His friend died but he was okay… I mean not okay but like… I shouldn’t be telling you this fuck. He won't like... Our dad made sure he's not gonna come bother you."  
  
“Glad you’re alive.” Devon shakes his head, “Lets just do this.”  
  
Ryan can’t let it go as easily. He stares at Tyler until Tyler shifts uncomfortably.  
  
 “Look… I just want to get his stuff and go.” Tyler pleads, “He’s getting help and they’re gonna make him go back on his meds. I told my dad this was a bad idea but he wanted this like done. He wanted”  
  
“It’s not your fault dude.” Ryan can’t bring himself to help him put Austin’s stuff in the car. He wants to pull Devon back behind the safety of the gate.  
  
“I was stoked when he said he was dating you.” Tyler says looking through the leftover stuff on the ground. “Like my mom always told him to bring you to diner… It would have been cool… You’re like awesome.”  
  
“Is he still in Gainesville?” Devon asks Tyler before he closes the trunk of Austin’s car, “We have the right to know.” He tries to sound tough. Tries to make Ryan feel like he has his back.  
  
“No.” Trevor plays with his keys, “He’s at a place in Mexico. Like a rehab… He was off his meds-“  
  
“No shit.” Devon cuts in.  
  
“He’s gonna be there for awhile he’s not gonna talk to you… Just don’t like…” Tyler looks uneasy, “He’s like a doctor you know.”  
  
“Dude.” Devon points to Ryan, “He’s a fucking Olympian.”  
  
“He won’t be back. We’re sorry. You can like call my dad if you want to know like more but he’s not a bad guy he was just not good. It’s not gonna… Like it’s over.”  
  
Ryan reaches forward and pulls Devon back inside the gate as soon as he can grab onto his shirt. They watch Tyler drive off before walking back in the house.  
  
“He could be lying.” Devon says as soon as they’re inside. He wipes the sweat off his forehead and heads to grab gatorade from the fridge. “You don’t know.”  
  
“Why would he lie?”  
  
“You.” Devon puts the Gatorade back on the counter, “Trust people too much. It’s gotta stop.”  
  
Ryan takes a drink from Devon’s gatorade, “He’s not in town.” He says.  
  
“You don’t know that.” Devon challenges.  
  
“I can check.” Ryan picks up his phone. “Watch.”  
  
Devon lets Ryan keep his Gatorade bottle, he walks back to the fridge to get a new one. He stays there to watch Ryan’s plan unfold.  
  
“Hi.” Ryan clears his throat, once the hospital receptionist picks up. “I’m a patient of Doctor Bracey… I was wondering if he was back from vacation yet?”  
  
“Doctor Bracey is on a leave of absence.” The receptionist says after a few seconds of , “He was an ER physician are you sure you’re asking for the right name?”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah thanks.” Ryan hangs up. “See.” He tells Devon.  
  
“So he’s not working.” Devon doesn’t look impressed, “What tells you he won’t come back tomorrow. Dude you gotta get a restraining order.”  
  
“No.” It’s one of the things Ryan had thought about on the flight to Florida, “I go to the courthouse and put his name and my name on a paper, that’s public record. That’s me coming out.”  
  
“Why are you scared Ry?”  
  
“You don’t get it.” Ryan shrugs, “Like sorry but you don’t.”  
  
“I get that he pointed a gun at me.” Devon reminds him, “I get that.”  
  
“It’s not gonna happen again.” Ryan tries to reassure.  
  
“You’re doing fuck all to make sure he doesn’t.” Devon says angry. Remembering seeing Austin point the gun through the living room window.  
  
“He’s in Mexico. He’s not here. You’re safe.” Ryan knows he’s making empty promises.  
  
“For how long?” Devon doesn’t buy it, “You don’t know. He could be on his way back.”  
  
“Right now he blabs about us to TMZ I can just say he’s nuts. I file that report I’m giving him the proof he needs.” Ryan tries to explain, “I file a restraining order I have to say we were in a relationship.”  
  
“You fucking never change.” Devon cries out, “What’s it gotta take?”  
  
“I’m done Devon.” Ryan says firmly, “Like that’s what I’m doing.”  
  
“It’s dumb.” Devon mumbles.  
  
“You don’t get it.”  
  
“You’re being dumb.” Devon says frustrated, “You think like he can’t leave? That just cause they say he’s gone he’s not coming back? He was gonna walk in the house with a gun. In the house. You gonna trust he won’t come back. That’s not cool.”  
  
“You don’t-”  
  
“I was right before an you didn’t listen.” Devon grabs his Gatorade, storms out of the kitchen and out of the house. A few minutes later Ryan hears him drive away.  
  
Once Devon’s gone Ryan walks through his house. It’s emptier without Austin’s things and with only half of Devon’s things back in the house. He sits in the living room and looks out the window and tries to imagine how frightening it had to be for Devon to see Austin walking up to the house with a gun.  
  
He walks from the living room to his closet and notices that one corner has been cleared of the boxes of shoes that were stacked there. He figures Devon had moved them to hide and Ryan can’t deal with it anymore.  
  
He can’t call to get the restraining order because he knows what it means. Knows that it’s everything he doesn’t want. Michael and him had had a plan for coming out and Ryan doesn’t want to do it alone.  
  
He waits for Devon to come back but by eight he’s already having trouble keeping his eyes open and Devon isn’t home. Before going to bed, he makes sure all the doors are locked and checks on the alarm twice before disarming it to go outside to check on the gate.  
  
Carter follows Ryan to his room and sits by his feet while Ryan brushes his teeth and carefully washes his face.  
  
He tries to call Devon one last time before he falls asleep but Devon sends his call to voicemail.  
  
It’s hours later when Ryan wakes up when the lights in his room are flicked on.  
  
“Ry?”  
  
“What?” Ryan flips over on his side and checks the time on his phone before looking up at Devon. “It’s like-”  
  
“I know.” Devon brushes it off, “I just had to-”  
  
“I’m tryna sleep.”  
  
“I know.” Devon apologizes, “Just… you’re not dumb. I’m sorry.”  
  
“You don’t have to-”  
  
“I do like it’s your life so… I just don’t wanna-”  
  
 “I come out and it’s over.” Ryan says, “He’s not coming out.”  
  
“Yeah.” Devon agrees, “I get it.”  
  
Devon turns the lights off and Ryan hears his bedroom door close. He checks his phone one more time and the light of the screen gleams off the gold medal hanging off his doorknob. A gold medal that definitely isn’t his.  
  
He doesn’t know if he can ever pack it up.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from "Lonely Mexico" by Dylan Owen


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both of us are different now  
> Heavier than calmer stages

**September  
Las Vegas**

Devon knows he shouldn’t have come the moment he gets to the hotel and Michael is already drunk. There are more girls in bikinis walking around the suite than he can count and Michael has his arm around a tall blonde girl’s waist. 

He’d been on Michael’s side for most of the breakup. When it had been obvious that Ryan was choosing Austin over everyone. However, in the fallout of it, after watching things unroll, Devon isn’t sure where he stands.

“Dude you’re here!” Michael grins once he spots him, “How was your flight. Have a drink!” 

Devon holds his hand up to a girl who walks up with a glass and a bottle of vodka because it’s still just 11am. 

Devon’s pretty sure Michael’s already drunk but he doesn’t say anything. He’s seen Ryan drink too much at home these past few weeks to judge. 

“Pick a chick dude they’re-” Michael puts his free arm around Devon’s shoulder. 

“Got a girlfriend dude. No thanks.” 

Devon thinks of Charlie back at home. He hasn’t seen her in a week because he’s been too busy making sure that Ryan is okay. Making sure that Ryan who goes out every night is still all right. Devon knows though that Ryan isn’t and from the looks of this party, he knows that Michael isn’t either. 

 

*

If you look quickly at Devon it’s easy to mistake him for Ryan. They use the same expressions and the same hand gestures. They always somehow end up with similar hair cuts. 

Once they’re poolside, Michael hears Devon laugh and instinctively looks around for Ryan. He catches himself the second time and downs his drink fast. He hates to admit that he’s maybe brought Devon here because he doesn’t have Ryan. 

Michael hadn’t known about Devon’s girlfriend and the more he thinks about it the more he realizes that he doesn’t really know anything about Devon. What he knows about Devon is what Ryan’s told him over the years. He knows that Devon sucks at Call of Duty. He knows that Devon is usually the victim of firework pranks. He knows that Ryan had stayed in Gainesville to give Devon a place to live, that Ryan has pretty much been Devon’s parent for the last three years. He knows that Devon was the chubby awkward kid who hero-worshipped Ryan for years. He knows that Ryan doesn’t love anyone else the way he loves Devon. Michael had always known that moving in with Ryan would have meant moving in with Devon too. 

Michael knows that, as much time as they’ve spent hanging out over the years, Devon and him aren’t really friends without Ryan. 

“Baby.” The girl he’s with (the girl from the Bahamas hadn’t lasted through Mexico) says, “You got a cake I think.” She wraps her hand around his arm and he can feel her nails dig into his skin. 

“I don’t want cake.” He pulls his arm free and tries to wave her off. He’s sobered up a bit since waking up drunk from last night’s party. She’s suddenly not as hot and her fake tan is streaky. 

“They’re gonna take pictures of it.” She insists, “With me and the other girls.”

Her voice has a soft whine to it and Michael wants to tell her to fuck off. He can see the clips from her hair extensions and he doesn’t wish to be anywhere near her. He sees Allison a few feet away and knows she won’t hit on him. Knows he can depend on her to not be wearing some nauseatingly sweet perfume. 

“Can you go?” He asks the girl. 

“Go where?” 

“Not here.” He pulls sunglasses from the collar of his shirt and puts them on his face. He needs a nap somewhere cool. “Like go.” 

She’s being paid to be nice to him so Michael knows she can’t tell him to fuck off but he definitely sees it in her face. He can’t bring himself to feel bad for his behavior or for her hurt feelings. 

Allison has jumped in the pool and Michael has no intentions of getting wet. He picks up a water bottle from an ice filled cooler and heads towards one of the shady cabana’s hoping somehow that it’s air-conditioned. 

The cabana is definitely cooler and Michael falls back on a couch. He holds the water bottle against his forehead and closes his eyes. He wonders if anyone would notice his disappearance because all he wants is a nap. 

Once he’s sure that he’s not about to be dragged out of his shady hiding spot by a bunch of second rate day shift show girls, he twists off the cap of the bottle and chugs down half of the water. 

There are guys around the pool, guys he doesn’t know walking around in swimsuits and Michael finds himself staring at a tall guy with tattooed ribs. He wants him more than the girls he’s been parading around. 

“Nice.” Devon catches him staring, “Tired of strippers.” 

“Dude give me a break.” Michael snaps, “We’re done. Who cares.” 

“It feels weird bein’ here.” Devon admits flopping down next to Michael in the pool cabana, “Like I’m Ry’s replacement.” 

Michael doesn’t answer. Instead he plays with the cap of his bottle.

“Feels like you got joint custody of me or somethin’” Devon says, “Like I gotta choose.” 

“I’m not making you choose. I don’t care.” Michael tells him, “I just feel like-” 

“You know why he didn’t get a restraining order?” Devon interupts. 

Devon didn’t come to Vegas for Ryan, he didn’t come to defend his honor or to plead his case. He’d come for a break from Gainesville but he can’t stay quiet. 

“D’he need one?” Michael takes off his sunglasses and turns his body away from the pool and towards Devon.

“Yeah.” Devon says quietly, “He showed up with a gun.”

“Fuck.” Michael says under his breath. He glances up at Devon, “D’he do anything?”

“No but he said he’d out Ry.”

“Fuck.” Michael can’t help but be selfish about this because he knows that his name is closely attached to Ryan’s. That if Ryan is outed their relationship is hidden just under the surface, all anyone has to do is dig just a little. 

“He’s at a rehab in Mexico.”

“Ryan?” 

“No.” Devon shakes his head, “Austin.” 

“Why didn’t he get a restraining order, say it was a crazy fan or-” 

“Cause you can’t. It’s gotta be domestic related and he didn’t wanna sign that paper.”

Michael tries to hide his sigh of relief but can’t. 

“Fuck you.” Devon snaps, “If that asshole hurts him.” 

“I didn’t ask him.” Michael barks back, “Why d’you come?” 

“You told me to.” Devon shakes his head. “I needed a break.” 

“From what?” 

“Ryan.” Devon says, “His life. He got like suckered into a reality show. They were test shooting and I had to bail. It’s gonna suck.” 

“What?”

“I dunno… They’re like test shooting we had a bunch of cameras it’s crazy.” Devon regrets talking about it, “Like whatever you’re not… You don’t gotta worry about it.”

“I do.” Michael suddenly feels worse; his head spins when he starts to think that his entire public image rests in the hands of Ryan’s mentally unstable ex-boyfriend. 

“He knows he fucked up.” Devon points out, “Like he told you and he’s doing everything to like-” Devon stops, “D’you seriously bring me here to fight cause you won’t call Ry?” 

“No.” Michael protests. “I’m here to have fun.” 

“All you did since I got here,” Devon kicks the toe of his flip flops against the floor, “is talk ‘bout Ry.” 

“Not cause I miss him.” Michael says trying to sound fully convincing, “Because I don’t want the shit he’s doing to fuck up my life.” 

“We can’t be friends.” Devon shakes his head, “Not if you’re gonna-” 

“You have nothing to do in this.” Michael says and he suddenly doesn’t know why he’s fighting so hard for Devon’s friendship. “Ryan fucked up. You know he fucked up Dev. Someone pointed a gun to your face become of-” 

“You miss him.”

“You’re like-” Michael doesn’t know what to say… Like a brother? He’d thought of Devon that way before but he knows that if Devon has to choose Devon will always pick Ryan. 

“ I know but maybe not anymore.” Devon says. “I forgave him so you can-”

“I can’t.” 

Before they can keep talking, the showgirls barge into the cabana holding a cake adorned with medals and lit sparkler. Devon takes a step back, away from any cameras and once the pictures are taken and the sparklers are done Michael doesn’t see him anywhere. 

 

**September,  
Baltimore**

Michael has to go back to Baltimore eventually. He tries to rally people to go on another vacation straight out of Vegas but his friends all have jobs, girlfriends and wives and can’t follow him. He thinks of going alone but that thought is more depressing than anything else. 

He thinks of Herman and Stella, who he hasn’t seen since before training camp and decides to just bite the bullet and head back. He’s hungover and fidgety on the plane and just wants to get to fresh air. He thinks of maybe going to the gym or going running but his bed sounds more inviting than anything else. 

He gets into his car to go pick up his dogs before he gets into his house. He grabs their beds, their leashes and their toys from his friend’s house relieved that he hadn’t left them with his mom. He packs both overly excited dogs in his car and drives back to his home while Herman climbs on his lap and tries to lick his face. 

“Dude.” Michael pushes Herman’s face down, “We’re not gonna make out. Give it up.” 

Herman keeps trying though and Michael bursts out laughing. 

“I missed you too big guy.” He tells Herman while he scratches his head.

With his dogs there, the house doesn’t feel as empty as Michael thought it would. His mom and the cleaning lady have been there since London. He finds milk and some food in the fridge and all his mail stacked up on a corner of the counter. Everything is almost where he left it. The laundry that had been piled in his room is gone and when he opens his kitchen drawers looking for dog treats he notices that everything is relatively neater. 

His bags from London, which he’d sent back with his family, are still packed and waiting in his bedroom. He walks by them when he walks in and pushes them closer to the wall with his foot when they get in the way of the door closing. 

He’d had plans before and then when everything had fallen through he’d stopped thinking about after London. Now that he’s home without trips to distract him he has no idea what to do.

There are no more practices or training sessions. He has no clinics lined up or other vacations to go on. All that’s in front of him is free time. He knows he has unopened emails from Peter with different offers. He’s signed up for a few golf tournaments and had given Bob a vague answer about showing up to swim a few times a week to keeps his options open. 

His home is quiet and he turns on the television to have some noise. He takes an energy drink out of his fridge and sits on his couch debating about what to do with the rest of his day. Thinking about the next five hours is less overwhelming than thinking about his whole life. 

 

**September  
Gainesville **

 

“Ok so.” 

In the past three weeks Ryan’s learned to hate this cameraman more than anyone else. 

“Yeah?” Ryan’s tired from practice. All he wants to do is eat, take a nap and get ready to go out with his friends. Without cameras. 

He’s been swimming harder than he’d planned to do straight out of London. He’d scheduled a vacation and a press tour but both of those had fallen through after the incidents with Austin. 

He hadn’t wanted to do this show but he’d let Erica go to LA to represent him. She hadn’t been pleased by his decision or by being told to “do whatever”. She’d agreed to it and Ryan had agreed to do the test shoots, a decision he regretted every morning he woke up with a camera in his face. 

It’s a decision no one else in his life seems to support. His coaches won’t get involved, his sponsors won’t get involved and his father had disapproved enough to give Ryan the first lecture he’d received since leaving for college. 

Ryan hates it too but above everything he hates that Devon never seems comfortable at home anymore. 

“We need a reshoot.” The man chews gum and flicks from one page to another on an iPad, “Is your brother-”

“Devon.” Ryan corrects. 

“Is Devon here?” 

Ryan walks into his kitchen and opens the fridge to get something to drink. When he closes the door, there’s a camera in his face. 

“Seriously?” Ryan sighs, “I’m just… Dude please.”

“Is Devon here? The audio wasn’t-”

“No.” Ryan says, “He has class.” 

“If we can schedule-” 

“I don’t know.” Ryan answers trying really hard to not be a dick, “I’m going outside I need five minutes without all-” He motions at the cameras. It’s the most polite way he can tell them to fuck off. 

“We wanted to talk about your schedule. You’re going to Chicago for-” 

“A wedding.” Ryan doesn’t want to know how this guy’s aware of his schedule. 

“We’ll have a crew coming with-” 

“Um no.” Ryan grimaces at him, “That’s not happening.”

“It’s in our contract to.” 

“You’re not filming my friend’s wedding.” Ryan repeats, “That’s it.” 

“In the contract we have-” 

“No.” Ryan breathes deep to calm himself down. “You’re not invited.” 

Ryan leaves both the men in the kitchen and heads towards his backyard. He lets Carter out the backdoor first and walks outside before he slams the door shut.

“This was a bad idea.” Ryan tells the dog, “You probably don’t like this either right? You mad at me?” 

Ryan drinks the Mountain Dew he’d grabbed from the fridge and sits on the dry grass in his backyard. He knows he has to call Erica and put an end to this, he knows this isn’t the right thing to do. He knows if he shows up with cameras in Chicago everything is over. 

 

**Baltimore  
October. **

Michael has no intentions of ever living in New York City. He walks by the desk that holds the keys and the papers everyday and everyday they beckon him. Finally after a golf trip to Mexico he opens the drawer, pulls out the key ring and decides it’s time to let go. 

The real estate agent answers her phone right away, thrilled to be speaking to him again. Her delight lasts until Michael explains that he’s selling the apartment. 

“I don’t recommend it.” She says, disapproval oozing from her voice, “They won’t be happy with a new owner turning it over so quickly.” 

“I have no- My plans changed.” Michael tries hard to keep his tone business like. 

“Well whatever you do, you have to meet with the homeowner’s board. I can schedule a meeting and you can talk to them. It’s a beautiful place, they had other offers.” 

“Can I do it by phone?” Michael asks. He has no desire to step foot in the apartment. He has no intention of walking through its empty rooms trying to not imagine how his life with Ryan would have filled them. 

“Oh no.” She sounds startled, “No, no. You have to… They won’t do this by phone. When can you come to New York?” 

“Um.” He stalls for time, his calendar is on his phone and he’s using his phone to talk to her. “I have a wedding next weekend in Chicago, I can be there Wednesday?” 

“They meet on Tuesday.” She says, “But for you they might make an exception. I’ll call.” 

She hangs up without saying bye and he’s stuck listening to the dial tone. He sets his phone down and carefully slides the keys back into the drawer glad to not have to think about it for another week. 

October,  
New York City. 

The president of the homeowner’s board looks like she’s 100. She’s comes up to Michael’s elbow and he’s terrified she’ll die while they’re alone in the elevator. 

“Are you keeping it for business meetings?” She asks him once the doors close, “It’s been empty for so long things might smell musty if you don’t get someone in more often. My maid can-”

“Probably selling it.” He mumbles to interrupt her. 

“It’s a shame.” She says clearly disappointed, “When you purchased we were told you were starting a family here.” 

Michael ignores her. He squeezes the key in his fist. He’d refused to slide it on his regular keychain. 

“Here we are.” She says once they stop, “It opens up to your own-” 

He’s out of the elevator before she finishes. He tries to steady his hand while he unlocks the door. It’s ridiculous to be this pent up about an empty apartment. 

The door opens and he’s met with wide empty spaces and floor to ceiling windows. There’s a pile of folded towels on the floor and a discarded umbrella resting against the wall. 

“The light really is breathtaking.” The president says once she catches up to him, “It’s even better earlier in the morning. You should really selling, it’s such a gem.” 

Michael’s too caught up in the apartment. He’s too busy remembering why he’d picked this one. It hurts again. 

“Did it not work out?” The president pries, “With your partner.”

“I don’t want-” He doesn’t bother finishing his sentence. Instead he walks to the windows in what had been the living room and stares out at the city. 

Michael had thought they could move in here, that they could live in New York instead of Baltimore or Florida. He was too famous in Baltimore and Florida wasn’t a gay friendly state. It seemed fair to start somewhere new, he’d thought that Ryan might be more willing to relocate if it meant going to a new city instead of fitting his life inside a place where Michael was already comfortable. 

It shouldn’t have mattered, Michael thinks, he should have just wanted to be with me. 

“You bought it for the extra rooms?” The woman pries again, “For kids?” 

“Family.” Michael lies. 

“We thought we might have to add more security.” She pats his arm, “With all those gold medals in the building.” 

“They’re not worth that much.” He moves his arm away from her. “Are we set?” 

“Yes.” She says sadly, “But please reconsider. You won’t find anything else like this.” 

*

Once he’s out of the building Michael needs to do something. He needs to go out and find a way to drown out the pain again. He knows he needs to get it under control before he gets to Chicago. 

He doesn’t have any friends in New York City but one text to his friends in Baltimore and he’s hooked up with a crowd of former college buddies ready to show him around. He’s three drinks in by the time he leaves his room and doesn’t sit down at the club until he’s downed one more and has a fifth is in his hand. 

There are girls everywhere. Girls who brush too close to him and lean in so far he can see down the top of their dresses. Tonight he can’t pretend to be interested. 

He catches the eye of another guy, sitting across the room of the VIP area. Michael’s not used to this, he’s not used to flirting openly with other men across crowded clubs. But there are so many people who seem to be so drunk that he doesn’t think they’ll notice. Michael downs his drink and gets up to walk closer to where he’s standing. He tries to tell himself he can do this. 

He stops close to the bar and orders another drink. It takes a minute before he feels a hand slide across his lower back and come to rest on his side. He turns his head and guy from across the room is close enough that Michael can smell his cologne. 

“Oh.” The guy says before quickly dropping his arm from Michael’s waist, “Man.” 

“Um yeah.” Michael doesn’t realize what’s happening for a second but he takes a step back. 

“I didn’t see who you were.” The guy says apologetically, “I mean I know who you are and you’re not- I didn’t recognize you from across. I’m sorry” He apologizes again, “You’re not.” 

“Yeah.” Michael takes another step back, “I’m not.” 

“My bad.” The guy holds up both his hands, “I just thought we’d like…” He motions between them. 

“No.” Michael brushes it off. Backtracks from his plan, “I wasn’t-” He sees the guy reach for his phone. “Dude no pictures.” 

“Relax.” The guy rolls his eyes, “I’m checking the time.” 

He walks away angrily and Michael feels the need to just get out. He knows he’s leaving his group behind but he doesn’t care. He starts walking and eventually doesn’t know which block he’s on or which block his hotel is on. He hails a cab and hands over his hotel key to show the address. 

Once he’s back in his room he downs a bottle of water and closes the blinds. He’s sick of New York City and its views. 

 

**October  
Chicago**

They’re both groomsmen at Conor’s wedding. 

They’re both staying in the same hotel, albeit on different floors but Michael is on edge the moment he checks in. Conor spots it when he comes to greet him. 

“Um Ry’s on the third floor.” Conor tells him, “If you wanna avoid it or whatever.” 

“D’you just give him the same speech?” 

“Yeah.” Conor admits. 

“Thanks.” Michael says. He watches Conor hover instead of leaving, “I’m not gonna go looking for him dude.” He reassures

“Don’t.” Conor almost begs. 

“Promise.” Michael does a cross over his heart trying to lighten the mood but Conor doesn’t laugh. 

“He’s alone.” Conor finally says, “Like he’s not here with any-” 

Michael holds up a hand because he doesn’t want to hear it. 

“I’m not gonna go looking for him.” He repeats, he holds up his iPad. “Watch Netflix and go to bed.”

“Ok good.” Conor nods, “If you need anything like-” 

“Relax.” Michael tells him. “It’ll be fine.” 

Once he finally convinces Conor that he’s not about to go find Ryan and finish the fight from London Michael sits alone flicking through Netflix for something to watch. He wishes he could convince himself that things could go smoothly. 

* 

They avoid each other until the morning of the wedding. As groomsmen though they have to spend the morning with Conor. 

Michael procrastinates leaving until he’s ten minutes late. He hears Ryan’s laugh before he reaches the door. He freezes up but keeps walking forward because Ryan shouldn’t have that power over him, because Ryan doesn’t get to win this and because he refuses to let Ryan think that he’s still hurting over it. 

“Dude.” Conor says once Michael walks in. He looks more nervous than he usually does in the ready room, “You’re late.” 

Michael shrugs instead of answering. He glances around the room quickly and catches Ryan’s eyes. He glances away and walks to where their suits are hanging up near the bathroom. 

“You got your cufflinks right?” Conor asks him. 

Michael takes out a box from his pocket and rattles them in front of Conor’s face. Trying to get the kid to relax or to smile. 

Somehow, as the morning goes on, Michael manages to stay at least five feet away from Ryan at all times. He realizes that it’s probably more of a group effort than his own carefulness. Ten minutes before they have to meet the photographer outside one of Conor’s brother tells them to get dressed. 

Michael reaches to grab the garment bag with his name on it when a familiar freckled arm reaches out in front of his face. 

“I gotta get it.” Ryan states like he’s sorry he had to get that close. 

“You didn’t bring him?” Michael asks before he can stop himself. He knows it’s a shitty thing to ask and he wishes he could take it back. 

“We broke up.” Ryan says shortly, “In London.” 

“I know.” Michael admits, “I talk to Dev.” 

“Yeah he told me.” Ryan says, “Thanks for bringing it up though.” 

Most of Conor’s friends are oblivious to the situation. They don’t know Michael and Ryan’s history or understand why the situation is awkward. The guys who do know the history stand a little closer ready to break up the fight both Michael and Ryan have promised won’t happen. 

“Dude I don’t wanna fight.” Ryan tells Michael, “Not here. I didn’t come here to fight.” 

“It was a dick thing to say.” Michael admits, “I shouldn’t-”

“It’s whatever I probably deserve it but like… Bust my balls when people aren’t looking.” Ryan requests, “I got enough shit in my-” 

“Your camera crew isn’t here?” 

Anger creeps over Ryan’s face again.

“Sorry.” Michael backtracks, “That was a shitty thing to say I just…” 

“Ry?” Conor calls out, “I don’t know which shoes to wear.” 

Ryan is shorter than Michael and so he’s not close to him for any of the pictures and Michael knows there’s a deliberate effort to keep them apart. Michael tries to focus on other things than Ryan. Tries to focus his attention on the photographer and on Conor but he can’t help but glance over. He catches Ryan looking back more time than he cares to admit. 

They’re kept apart until they line up for the procession. 

Michael stands in front of Ryan while they wait to walk down the aisle with their assigned bridesmaid. He hears Ryan make easy joke with Elizabeth’s high school best friend. She laughs and Michael can almost see Ryan’s eyes crinkle as he smiles. 

The girl he’s standing with squeezes his arm. 

“I might fall.” She warns, “Please don’t let me fall.” 

Before Michael can reassure her Ryan rests his hand on Michael’s arm. Michael feels him leaning in closer pressing his shoulder against Michael’s back. Michael can smell the same brand of gum Ryan always chews. 

“You’re probably gonna be the one holding him up.” Ryan tells Michael’s bridesmaid. “But I got your back.” He winks at her. 

Michael doesn’t get a chance to answer because the music starts. Ryan’s hand lingers on his arm for another second before he drops it. 

“You’re not gonna fall.” Michael reassures his bridesmaid. 

“You won’t either.” She encourages, “You can do this.” 

*

Michael and Ryan sit at the same table during the reception but are separated by several people. Ryan is between Cullen and the bridesmaid he’d escorted down the aisle. He rarely looks in Michael’s direction but Michael watches him wave off the waiter passing around with the wine bottle. Ryan sips from his champagne glass but the level doesn’t go down much. 

After dinner, but before the speeches get started, Cullen leaves the table and the bridesmaid spots sorority sisters across the room. Ryan is left mostly alone at his end of the table. 

Michael clinks the ice cubes around his empty glass for a few minutes before getting up. 

“I’m heading to the bar.” Michael tells Ryan as he gets up, “What are you drinking?” 

“Soda water.” Ryan admits. “With lime.” 

“You’re not drinking?” 

“Figured it be good to be sober tonight.” Ryan shrugs, “Kinda laying off.” 

When Michael comes back from the bar with both their glasses, someone’s taken his seat at the table to talk to one of Conor’s brothers and Michael’s forced to sit in Cullen’s empty chair next to Ryan. 

“Here.” Michael sets Ryan’s glass next to his empty one.

“Thanks.” Ryan stirs the drink with the straw before taking a careful sip

“I didn’t spike it.” Mike rolls his eyes. 

“I know your ways Phelps.” Ryan jokes.

They’d been friends before they’d ever been a couple and Michael misses it. It feels good to be next to Ryan. It’s a relief to be talking to Ryan in his normal state, not angry or drunk or guilty. 

“Cheers.” Ryan tips his glass to Michael before taking another sip. 

*

“Marriage isn’t about you.” Conor’s parents read in unison, “It’s about the family you’re going to be and the children you’re going to have. Marriage is about the other person and how you’re going to love them.”

The person who stole Michael’s seat never goes back to their own table and Cullen suspiciously never comes back to sit beside Ryan. They’re stuck sitting next to each other as the speeches begin. 

While he waits for Conor’s parents to make their way to the microphone, Ryan plays with his glass wishing it held alcohol. He watches Michael drum his fingers against his now empty drink. Their legs brush under the table and Ryan quickly moves his out of the way. 

“Marry your best friend.” Conor’s parents continue, “It’s the best decision you’ll ever make. No one will ever understand you more. Marry the person you want your children to look up to.”

Ryan pretends the words mean nothing that the toast is only meant for Conor and Elizabeth and applies in no way shape or form to his life. 

“Forgive each other.” Conor’s mom implores. 

“Fuck dude.” Ryan groans. It would have been painful enough to listen to her advice alone. Having to listen to it while sitting next to Michael makes him want to down the first bottle of liquor he can grab from behind the bar. 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees. “At least I’m half drunk.” 

“Be generous.” Conor’s dad picks up, “With your time, with your patience and with your love. Work hard on your relationship because nothing is easy.” 

The speech continues but the beginning of it is stuck on a loop inside of Ryan’s head. He shakes his head trying to get it out, like he can actively shrug thoughts out of his brain. 

“You okay?” Michael asks quietly. 

“Can we talk?” Ryan asks instead of answering. “You an me?” 

“Now? They’re about to start dancing.” 

“Later. Or not like if you don’t wanna.” Ryan backtracks 

“We can talk.” Michael agrees, “We can go back to my room once it’s over.” 

Ryan spends the rest of the reception figuring out his speech in his head. All he wants to do is to tell Michael the truth. He wants to apologize and explain how much his life sucks without him. How much his life has sucked for the past year. How whenever he thinks of his future all he sees is Michael’s face. That the only person he’d ever thought of having kids with was him. How he can’t think of anyone else he wants his kids to look up to other than Michael. How he doesn’t have another best friend. 

He wants to tell Michael that he misses him. That things aren’t the same. That he wants to rewind months behind and not act like a dumbass. 

He’s so busy thinking that his dance moves suffer. There are disappointed bridesmaids and so many of them hit on him that once midnight strikes Ryan is ready to split. They watch Conor and Elizabeth make their way out of the venue and into a vintage car. They throw confetti and as the car speeds away Ryan finds Michael standing directly behind him. 

“You wanna talk now?” He offers. 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods. He brushes some confetti off his shoulder, “You’re on the fifth floor yeah?” 

“No.” Michael shakes his head, “First.” 

“I’ll follow you.” Ryan gestures for Michael to start walking “Go.”

*

Once they’re in Michael’s room, Ryan sits on the chair that’s closest to the door. Michael settles himself cross-legged on the bed. 

“I’m…” Ryan has no idea how to begin, 

“I don’t want to hear your sorries.” Michael says, “Like they mean nothing.” 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan drags a hand through his hair, “I just thought… It’s okay.” 

“What?” Michael asks confused.

“He lied about everything.” Ryan blurts out, “He lied about his brother dying and when I tried to break up with him he’d try and kill himself. He didn’t wanna like… He didn’t give a shit…” 

“Why d’you choose him?” Michael asks. 

“Dude… I.” Ryan hesitates.

“No Ry.” Michael insists, “You wanted to talk so why-” 

“I missed you.” Ryan says, “I missed like… Before when we’d call and play COD until 2am and when we weren’t trying to make big decisions like… The pressure wasn’t there you know… I thought about everything all the time and with him it was quiet. No pressure just-” 

“He didn’t want you to change.” Michael finishes.

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “I make dumb choices. Fucked up.”

“Shitty excuse.” Michael says, “They’re your choices, you cheated.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods, “It wasn’t worth it.” 

“I cheated too.” Michael admits after a few seconds of silence. “With girls like when we-” 

“Stop.” Ryan holds out a hand. The revelation hurts Ryan more than it should. Because he knows he doesn’t have the right to be upset that Michael’s actions were totally justified. 

“Yeah.” Michael doesn’t elaborate, “I just like… I wasn’t in Baltimore waiting for you.” He wants to make that clear, “I wasn’t crying about you at night or some dumb shit like-”

“See how fucked it is?” Ryan laughs bitterly, “We were gonna have kids dude. We were gonna have some chick have a baby for us and we’re both fucking other people. What the fuck were we doing?” 

“I really wanted that with you.” Michael has to be careful not to yell it. Because he needs ryan to know. He needs Ryan to know that an empty apartment building in New York City holds ghosts of what their life should have been like. 

“I know!” Ryan cries out. “I really wanted it too.” he admits sadly, “I fucked up but I really wanted it too.” 

“You never showed it.” Michael hangs his head. This hurts more than he thought it would and he needs it to be over. “Just leave Ryan.” 

“I tried.” Ryan tries one last time as he opens the hotel door, “You never saw.” 

Michael can’t answer. He waves Ryan off again. 

“I miss you.” Ryan lets himself admit. 

“You can’t.” Michael points out, “I’m going to bed.” 

*

Ryan sleeps like shit. He lies awake for hours watching the numbers on the alarm clock change. He turns around, plays on his phone and finally dozes off for an hour before his phone alarm wakes him up. 

He walks through the first floor to get to breakfast even though it’s out of his way. The door to Michael’s room is open and housekeeping is already stripping the bed. 

The camera crew meets Ryan at the airport and they definitely look displeased about his actions that weekend. He refuses to help them reshoot scenes and he gets into Devon’s without them. He loses them on his way home.

He makes a hurried sign for his front gate warning the camera crew, the production team and anyone else working for the Network that stepping on his propriety will result in trespassing charges. He’s done with the whole thing. He fires Erica through a text message the next day. 

Even without the cameras though the house doesn’t feel right. He’d never meant to still be in Gainesville after London. It doesn’t feel like home anymore.

Three days later, the house is for sale.

 

**h**


	5. Chapter 4: November

**Gainesville, November**

The real estate agent who appraises Ryan’s house cringes five times during her first walk through. She cringes at the singed doorframes, the mess in the garage, the burnt patches of grass in the yard, the holes in the drywall in the upstairs’ hallway and at the half hanging light fixture in the living room. 

She makes a list of things Ryan has to fix before she can bring people through and begs him to start sooner rather than later. When she’s ready to leave, he walks her to the gate and sees her eyes stop on his hand made sign. 

“Is that going to get in the way?” She asks pointing at it. 

“No.” Ryan lies. “It’s done. I should take it off.” 

“That would be ideal.” She answers typing something on her phone. “Call me when there are no more holes in the wall.” 

Ryan watches her get into her car and waits until she drives off before closing and locking his gate. He leaves the sign up and walks back inside. 

The past few weeks haven’t gone over well. Between firing Erica and refusing to continue with the reality show there are two breech of contract lawsuits hanging over his head. He hasn’t opened his email in a week or checked his voicemail. He keeps it full and lives his days fully ignoring all the bad things that he knows are days away from caving in on him. 

Holes in the wall are easier to think about than law suits. Ryan puts the list up on the side of the refrigerator before he leaves the house to workout. Pushing himself through the pain of flipping tires and lifting weights helps him clear his head. In Matt’s garage he doesn’t have to think about Austin coming back, Michael not wanting to be with him, leaving Devon without a house in Gainesville or what he’s going to do with his life. 

Ryan hits the heavy bag until his hands hurts and when Matt stops him, his knuckles are raw and bleeding. 

Ryan wants to stay and keep going but Matt sends him home. 

Devon is in the kitchen when Ryan gets back, taking burgers out to grill 

“What’s the list?” He asks pointing to it. 

“Shit we gotta fix.” Ryan walks in behind him and opens the freezer door looking for an ice pack. “Before we can sell this place.” 

“Fuck man.” Devon stops him, pushing his hand against Ryan’s sweaty t-shirt he stares at his bloodstained hands, “That’s gnarly.” 

“Yeah it’s okay.” Ryan reaches behind Devon to open the door and grabs the first frozen food item: a tub of ice cream. He pulls it out and presses his knuckles against it. 

“Right.” Devon lets go of him and goes back to pulling burgers out of the pack, “I’m making dinner.” 

“Dude. You don’t have to.” Ryan sits up on the counter. “You don’t have to take care of me.” 

“If I’m not who’s gonna?” Devon says bluntly, “You’re a mess.” 

Ryan figures he should be insulted but he knows Devon’s telling the truth. 

“That’s gonna make a mess.” Devon hands Ryan a bag of frozen French fries as a trade off for the ice cream. “You should pour like peroxide on them.” 

“I ain’t doing that.” Ryan refuses. 

“Baby.” Devon accuses, “I’m going out back. Come chill.” 

Their backyard is a disaster. Ryan can’t remember the last time anyone mowed the lawn or cleaned the pool. He throws chlorine pucks in the water every week to make himself feel like he’s doing some form of care taking. The real estate agent had been unimpressed by his efforts.

Devon turns on the barbeque and opens his can of soda before throwing a sun faded Frisbee for his dog to chase. 

“What d’we gotta fix?” He asks waiting for the Frisbee to be returned to him. 

“Your door.” Ryan explains. He sits by the edge of the pool and gingerly dips both his hands in the water. He winces when it stings, “The holes in the wall. Mow the lawn.” 

“You should call Dad.” Devon suggests. 

“Like…” Ryan shakes his head. 

Ryan talks to his mom everyday but he hasn’t talked to his father since London. There are parts of his life he’s kept a secret from his dad because Ryan’s sure his dad won’t ever accept them. Ryan cringes when he thinks that between the fight in London and the reports about Austin his dad’s pieced the reality of his life together. Ryan’s afraid of calling and having to answer questions. He’s afraid of calling and being accused of something his dad’s definitely said was disgusting. 

“Dad doesn’t care.” Devon says, “I know you think he does but he won’t-” 

“Dude do we have the same dad?” Ryan looks up from the water, “Cause like I’ve heard him say-” 

“Not about you.” Devon corrects, “He loves you.” 

“Cause he don’t know.” Ryan argues. 

“Ry… Dad doesn’t like.” Devon stops to think about what he’s about to say, “You’re wrong. Dad’s never been as proud of anyone like he’s proud of you.” 

Ryan wants to call Devon out on it but doesn’t want to start a fight. He flexes his hands underwater and watches the wounds reopen and blood dilute in the water. 

Devon puts the burgers on the grill and keeps playing Frisbee with the dogs. They’re both too stubborn to talk. 

“There’s too much chlorine in here.” Ryan says finally. He takes his hands out of the water and shakes them out, “Fucking stings.” 

“In what world does dad not know?” Devon picks it right back up. 

“In a world where I don’t want him to.” Ryan snaps, “I’m not-” 

“So you’re gonna fix walls by yourself?” Devon challenges, “You don’t know-”

“Doesn’t matter it’s-”

“Dad knows.” Devon cuts him off, “Dad’ll help.” 

“I don’t want him to-” 

“Then don’t answer the phone with ‘Dad I suck dick.’” Devon rolls his eyes, “Just ask how to patch up dry wall. Dad won’t care. There’s nothing straighter than fucking fixing houses dude.”

Ryan doesn’t want Devon to be right but he really has no idea how to patch up walls. He remembers his promise to the real estate agent, pulls out his phone and dials. 

“Might be at work.” Devon reminds him, “Try the pool.” 

“No.” Ryan doesn’t want to risk his sister answering the office phone, “Kristin knows that’ll be worst.” 

“I can’t be the only person you talk to.” Devon rolls his eyes, “Seriously.” 

Ryan’s father answers after three rings and he doesn’t sound like he’s at the speed club. There’s no echo or people yelling. He’s happy to give Ryan step-by-step instructions on how to patch up walls. 

“You writing it down Ry?” He asks after he’s explained step number five

“Um yeah.” Ryan lies. 

“Really?” 

“No.” Ryan admits. 

“Just get the stuff.” Steven stops listing off steps, “I can drive up this weekend and help out. What else do you have to do?”

Ryan lets his guard down. He starts with the house and moves on to Erica and the reality show and the lawsuits. He leaves Devon and the burgers in the backyard and makes his way back inside to his bedroom. 

“Ryan.” Steven interrupts him in the middle of his tirade about the show. 

“Yeah?” 

“You made all those choices.” 

“I know.” 

“Listen.” Steven warns, “You let your manager go to meetings for you and she made decisions you didn’t like. You could have said no, you could have refused to go along with it. What you chose to do is-” 

“I know.” Ryan groans, “I had to send her without me I had to go home-” 

“You let a stranger move into your house with your brother.” Steven’s tone is firm, “You put Devon in trouble and-”

“I know.” Ryan feels like he’s sixteen and about to be grounded, “It was dumb Dad I didn’t think-” 

“That’s your problem Ryan.” Steven sounds defeated, “Now I don’t ask what you do with your private life.”

“I’m sorry.” Ryan squeezes his eyes shut. This is the closest they’ve ever come to talking about It. 

Ryan remembers inviting Michael over for dinner at his parent’s house one weekend they’d spent together in Gainesville. They’d been careful not to touch and Ryan had deliberately sat next to Brandon instead of Michael while they ate. In the kitchen, clearing up the table after dinner, Ryan had let himself run a hand up Michael’s back before quickly kissing his neck. Steven had walked in a few seconds afterwards catching them standing too close to each other. 

Ryan had spent the next few weeks lying excessively about girls he’d been taking out on dates whenever his dad called. 

“I raised you better than putting anyone before your family Ryan.”

“I know.” Ryan repeats. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not me you have to apologize to Ryan.” Steven is relentless. It’s the kind of talk which would anger Michael when he overheard them. 

“I told Dev I’m sorry.” Ryan says, “I told him-” 

“You made all those choices and you have to be man enough to fix your problems.” Steven finishes, “I can help you fix the holes in your wall but your life’s your problem. You called you lawyers?” 

Ryan has not. He lets the words sink in while he stares at his ceiling. 

“I’m not gonna be here Saturday.” Ryan remembers. He sits up “I’m in New York. Golden Goggles.” 

“Ah.” It’s an excuse Steven understands, “Who are you bringing?” 

“Um.” Ryan doesn’t have a ready answer. He’s sure Erica had had a faceless date picked out for him already, “Devon?” 

“He has classes.” Steven replies, “Bring a girl. I’m sure you know-” 

“I really don’t dad.” Ryan tries to laugh it off, “I’m busy and-” 

“Your friends have girlfriends.” 

“You sound like mom.” Ryan groans. 

“She’s worried too.” Steven notes. 

“I’m fine.” Ryan insists. He wishes he could convince himself. “I just gotta fix stuff.” 

“Get the stuff I said for the wall and I’ll walk you through it before you leave.” Steven drops the subject. “It’s not that hard.” 

He repeats the list of what Ryan has to get and waits for Ryan to go find a pen and a scrap piece of paper to write on. 

Ryan hangs up. He stops by the kitchen for beer and paper plates. When he walks into the backyard Devon’s pulling burgers off the grill and pushing back both the dogs with his feet trying to keep the food away from them. 

“You talked to dad?” 

“Yeah he’s gonna come fix it.” Ryan trades a paper plate for a burger, “You busy next weekend?” 

“Yeah.” Devon pushes his dog away one more time before sitting on one of the more sturdy patio chairs. “I got work and I gotta study, why you need me outta the house to show it or?” 

“No I need a date.” Ryan admits. 

“So you pick me?” Devon says in disapproval, “Dude you need to talk to other people. I got a girlfriend.”

“Fine don’t come.” Ryan makes a face at him. 

“This is sad.” Devon points out, “You’re-” 

“What? Ryan challenges. 

“Nothing. Eat.” 

After dinner, Devon leaves for his evening shift at The Grog and Ryan’s left walking around his unnaturally clean house with Carter trailing right behind him. 

“D’you wanna move?” He turns around to ask Carter, “Where would we go dude?” 

Carter tips his head sideways like he’s actually listening to Ryan. He licks Ryan’s hand before turning away and walking towards Ryan’s room to jump up on his bed. Ryan follows him. 

“Wanna go for a walk?” Ryan offers, “We’ll go play ball.” 

Carter lifts his head up for a second before burying it back under his paws. 

“Fine dude.” Ryan replies. 

He continues to walk aimlessly around his house. He stops in his closet and throws clothes in the hamper, puts shoes that had been in his suitcase back up on the shelf and moves hangers until they’re all facing the same way. 

He knows why he’s standing alone in his bedroom on a Friday night. His dad’s speech hadn’t fallen on deaf ears. He sighs loudly to himself and starts idly thinking about the skateboards in the garage and the box of fireworks still in the backyard shed. He flexes his still raw knuckles and thinks about moving his car out of the garage to hit the heavy bag for a while. 

Instead of doing something he knows he’ll regret he walks to his bed, grabs the list he’d scribbled down during the phone call with his dad, pats Carter on the head and heads to the garage. 

Ryan didn’t use to close his front gate behind him but now he doesn’t take the chance. He locks it behind him hoping Devon doesn’t need to get back in before he gets back. He blasts his music while he makes the short drive to Home Depot. 

He feels lost the moment he walks in, he re-reads his list and realizes he has no idea where anything is or what any of it actually looks like. He’s too stubborn to ask for help so he confidently walks down the nearest aisle and glances up to read the signs hanging off the ceiling. 

He finds the first item on his dads list five aisles down and the rest is close by. He juggles the patches, the putty compound and everything else in his hands because he hadn’t been smart enough to grab a basket on his way in. He does a one over of the list; stopping in the middle of the aisle to re-read everything and make sure it’s all there. To prove to his dad that he does think. Sometimes. 

“No dude.” 

Ryan instantly recognizes the voice and his stomach turns just as fast. 

“The showerhead’s stuck I need to get it off and I don’t know what to… It’s rusted over so-” 

From where he is, Ryan can see between the tops of the slats of drywall and the bottom of a shelf into the next aisle. The shoes catch his attention first. He doubts many people walk around Gainesville in unreleased Speedo designs. 

Austin is wearing shorts, a hoodie and the shoes Ryan had given him to replace the Crocs he sometimes wore after his ER shifts. 

Ryan leaves his things on the shelf and walks out of the store and into his car as fast as he can. Once the doors are locked he sits for a minute trying to regain his composure. He drives slowly around the parking lot until he spots Austin’s BMW. He swallows the panic rising in his throat and starts to drive away. He’s turning the corner when Austin walks out of the store. They make eye contact when Austin looks both ways before crossing into the parking lot. 

Ryan speeds off without giving him a second look. He forces himself to slow down once he’s on the road but he finds himself obsessively checking his mirrors to spot Austin’s car. 

He drives to Devon’s work instead of home. Devon is bartending and he grins when he spots Ryan. 

“Dude!” He reaches across the bar to clasp Ryan’s hand, “You’re outta the house congrats. Wanna come back here?” 

“No.” Ryan pulls Devon closer to him, “We gotta go.” 

“What?” Devon laughs, “Are you okay? Like I’ve been thinking you’re acting weird but now this is-” 

“Aus- He’s back. I saw him at Home Depot.” Ryan feels like his heart’s about to beat out of his chest, “You have to-” 

“No.” Devons pulls his hand back, “I ain’t running away I gotta finish my shift. I got studying my books are home.” 

“I can’t stay here.” Ryan argues, “You gotta.” 

“If he shows up call the cops.” Devon says, “No excuses. Dude you gotta.” He looks at Ryan pained. 

“What?” There’s an edge to Ryan’s voice, “I gotta what?” 

“Get a grip dude chill.” Devon takes an order and starts making a drink, “You’re not good Ry.” 

Ryan tries to convince Devon to leave with him one more time but Devon refuses. Before he leaves Ryan at least convinces him to sleep at his girlfriend’s house for a few days. Ryan leaves The Grog to drive home without Devon. He can’t imagine what his dad would have to say about it. 

The closer he gets to his house, the harder Ryan’s heart pounds against his chest. He’s out of breath by the time he turns onto his street. He fully expects to see Austin waiting for him but the driveway is empty. 

Ryan’s in his house long enough to pack his things and to get the variety of stuff Devon had requested. He drops off Devon’s stuff and Devon’s dog over at his girlfriend’s house before getting out of Gainesville. 

He knows he can’t live there anymore. 

*

Ryan knows the drive between Gainesville and Daytona Beach by heart. There’s no traffic and so he goes on autopilot. Carter sneaks his head between the window and the headrest and Ryan leans to rest against him. 

He drives to his mom’s house and gets there late. He tries to walk in as quietly as possible but Brandon’s dog hears them and lunges down the stairs barking. 

Before the dog gets to them the alarm panel next to the door starts to beep and when Ryan enters the code his family has been using for the past decade the board just beeps louder at him. 

“Ryan!” Ike yells from the top of the stair, “What’s wrong?!” 

“Dude shut it off.” Brandon complains. “21-48” 

“Why d’you change it?” Ryan punches the numbers in and the alarm beeps once more before shutting down. The silence that follows is overwhelming. 

“Kristin said it wasn’t safe to have the same password for so long.” Ike explains.

“Thank you Kristin.” Ryan rolls his eyes in the dark, “I didn’t want to wake you guys up.” 

“Good job.” Brandon says sarcastically, “I’m going back to bed.” 

“I’m sorry mom.” Ryan says. “Go back to sleep.”

“Ryan. What’s wrong?” She walks down the stairs. The worry in her voice makes Ryan feel terrible. 

“Nothing.” He lies, “I just wanted to be here.” 

“Did your dad call you?” She purses her lips and reaches to put a hand against his face. 

“To come fix dry wall at my house yes?” Ryan answers puzzled, “Why?” 

Ike shakes her head dismissing his question. 

“Is Devon getting his things?” She asks instead.

“DC’s at his girlfriend’s house.” Ryan explains, “I’m by myself.” 

It’s past midnight but his mom leads him into the kitchen and motions for him to sit on one of the stools at the counter. 

“Are you hungry?” She asks while opening the refrigerator door “I can reheat-” 

“I’m not hungry mom.” Ryan insists, “I shouldn’t have come I didn’t wanna wake you guys up.” 

“Ryan.” She leans on the counter in front of him, still shorter than him even though he’s sitting, “Are you in trouble?”

“No I’m not.” Ryan answers. 

“Then why d’you drive up in the middle of the night.” She asks, “You could have come up tomorrow morning.” 

Ryan bows his head. He can tell his mom is overly worried and he hates it. He hates hiding things from her, hates that he can’t be honest. For the first time since he’d kissed Dan Meeks in his car after swim practice in high school he figures it might be time to come clean. 

“My roommate…” He starts slowly, “With the-” 

“Austin?” Ike puts a glass of milk in front of him and reaches out for his arm. “The doctor?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods. He doesn’t touch the glass of milk because he can’t honestly remember the last time he drank it straight. Probable sitting up at this counter after school at a time when his feet still didn’t reach the floor. 

“What about him?” Ike probes.

Ryan doesn’t know how to say it.

Meghan had been the first one to find out. She’d found pictures of him and another Florida swimmer in a private album on his MySpace account. Pictures from before Athens when Ryan had found someone who was willing to let him kiss him in public. 

She’d come to visit him in Gainesville and Ryan had introduced her to Kevin and she hadn’t even blinked when they’d held hands at dinner or when Ryan had kissed him goodnight. She’d never told anyone. 

“He was.” Ryan starts, “We were… I like we…” He stammers. 

Michael and him were going to do it together. Ryan had wanted to be able to kiss Michael at family dinners like Michael kissed him in the kitchen of Debbie’s house while they waited for dinner to finish cooking. Ryan had been able to cope with the possibility of his parents not accepting it knowing he still had Michael. 

Ike looks at him with the same worried look painted all over her face. 

“He was my boyfriend.” Ryan mumbles, wishing there was more pride in his voice, “I’m gay.” 

“Ryan.” 

“I’m sorry.” It hurts him to say it. 

He waits for her to say more, to tell him to get out.

“Don’t tell dad.” He begs. 

“Ryan.” His mom repeats. “I know.” 

“You what?” 

“I know Ryan.” She repeats, “You loved Michael.” 

Ryan laughs bitterly at her statement. 

“Yeah and I messed it up.” Ryan shakes his head, “I-” 

He hesitates because he’s not sure how much of his love life he wants to share with his mom. Admitting to his actions seems way worse than admitting his sexuality. 

“He didn’t need me.” Ryan says quietly instead. “Austin did.” 

“And it didn’t work out with Austin.” She finishes for him.

“Nothing’s working out.” Ryan’s voice breaks. He wipes his face on the sleeve of his t-shirt, embarrassed to be crying in front of his mom, “I’m just tired I’m sorry.” 

Ike doesn’t talk. She moves around the counter until she’s by his side and hugs him without mentioning his tears or his life choices. 

“I’m gonna go to bed.” Ryan tells her once he takes his head off her shoulder. 

“Did he say he didn’t need you?” Ike holds his face in her hands.

“No.” Ryan brings his hand to rub tears out of his face. The newly healed skin on his knuckles stretches tight. 

“You never know Ryan. You were both busy-” 

“Mom.” Ryan’s tired of hearing people telling him the reasons it could have worked, “We’re done it’s not.” 

“Ok Ryan.” Ike nods. She takes his hand in hers and looks at his knuckles, “I just want you to be okay.”

Ryan doesn’t have the heart to tell his mom about the lawsuits or selling his house and moving. He just heads to bed.

Once he’d moved away to college, Devon had moved into his bedroom and the room now stands as a mish mash of both of their lives. His old swimming awards and Devon’s football jerseys; signed basketballs and discarded posters with broken skateboards and spare wheels crammed in every available space. Ryan’s sure that if he searches long enough he’ll find old porn magazines and long forgotten cherry bombs. 

He closes the door, changes and gets into bed. He’s setting his alarm for morning practice, figuring he can talk his dad into giving him a lane at the Speed Club when the door opens. 

“Do you have everything?” Ike asks walking in, “Do you need another pillow?”

“I’m fine Mom.” Ryan reassures her, “Go to bed.” 

“Ok.” She hovers in the room, not leaving. Not fully believing him. 

“Mom.” Ryan turns to look at her, “Don’t tell dad.” 

Ryan doesn’t even know if his parents talk, doesn’t know if Brandon goes to live with his dads every other weekend. He realizes that he’s been so absorbed in his own life these past few months that he hasn’t bothered to keep up with the rest of his family. 

“Ryan.” His mom sighs like she used to when he would break a window or walk into her kitchen with bleeding cuts, “You don’t understand how much your father loves you. One day you’ll get it.” 

She leaves his room after saying goodnight and it’s only once he’s alone in his old bedroom that Ryan realizes that maybe this is another one of his dumb choices. That running away from Gainesville, from his coaches, from Devon and from his entire life is just another mistake. 

He knows there’s a picture of him and Michael on the dresser under the window. It’s a picture Devon had framed after Athens, when Devon had still been swimming and Michael Phelps had been a big deal; a way bigger deal than his own Olympian brother. 

Ryan’s glad he can’t see it in the dark. 

He twists and turns in bed unable to fall asleep and unable to shake the uneasy feeling still in his chest. A feeling he’d thought he could leave behind in Gainesville. 

It’s past 3 am when he gives up on sleep. He flicks on the baseball shaped desk lamp (he can’t remember either Devon or him being that into baseball) and sits up. 

It’s just a few minutes later that he realizes why the feeling is still hanging around in his chest. Even his mom’s house doesn’t feel like home anymore.


	6. Chapter 5: End of November

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clearly, this isn't real.

**Daytona Beach, November**

 

Ryan stays at his mom’s house for a week before her constant worried stares get the best of him. He should be worried about her really, about the house being in foreclosure and how Brandon’s friends with all the wrong people. Ryan feels horrible that the tables are turned. He’s twenty-nine years old; his mom shouldn’t have to worry about him. 

To escape his mom’s prying questions Ryan spends a few afternoons at the Speed Club. He walks around and helps with the youngest groups. He pads around gingerly afraid to run into his dad but he never does. 

His dad’s absence from the Speed Club is palpable. Kristin walks around harried reorganizing schedules and finding replacements. She’s there before Ryan in the morning and still in her office when he leaves to go home at night. Ryan’s presence seems to distract people from asking where his father is, people wrongfully assume he’s in charge. 

Kristin corners Ryan one day just as he’s finishing up the learn to swim program his dad had made him coach throughout high school. 

“I need you to pick up the boys gold team.” She says, “Dad can’t and I’m-” 

“Dad’s not gonna let me coach that.” Ryan cuts her off, “You’re-” 

Ryan knows there’s no way he’d be trusted with the senior team, that even with three Olympics under his belt his dad has no faith in his coaching abilities.

“Dad’s sick Ry and I’m out of options so I don’t care what Dad wants he-” 

“Dad’s sick?” Ryan lifts himself out of the pool. 

“I don’t know.” Kristin admits, “But he’s been gone to doctor’s and we don’t know-he won’t tell me. I need you to do this Ryan.” 

“Dad’s okay though.” Ryan asks, “Like he’s comin’ to fix my walls and-” 

“I’m sure Ryan.” Kristin dismisses, “I need you to coach the-” 

“I’ve never coached anything in my life.” Ryan answers, “Dad’s not gonna-” 

“Ryan.” His sister answers losing her patience, “Do it.” 

“Fine.” Ryan grabs his towel, “When he’s pissed off you deal.” 

Ryan guesses he can coach, figures that after so many years of being coached everyday he can make something up. There are set sheets in his dad’s office and Ryan spends an hour figuring out which ones are right. It feels weird to be sitting at his father’s desk, feels even weirder to be stared at by the framed pictures of himself with medals around his neck. His grinning face from Athens and Beijing are strewn throughout the office, a few of the medals he’d left home are hanging on the wall. 

Ryan hates letting his dad down and he spends way more time than he ever usually spends on anything crafting a practice set. He calls Devon for help but Devon only obsesses over their dad not being able to coach.

Devon’s worry makes Ryan worry more. 

 

**New York City, November 18th**

 

Ryan leaves for the Golden Goggles alone. He has no one to ask and Devon still refuses to go with him. Like a repeat of Conor’s wedding, Ryan knows Michael is staying in the same hotel and so Ryan spends fifteen minutes walking around hoping to walk into him. He runs into Cullen instead. 

“No cameras?” Cullen asks. 

“No.” Ryan dismisses, “I quit.” 

Ryan doesn’t bother to elaborate on the details of his defunct reality show because he hasn’t bothered to look into it himself. 

Michael doesn’t do the red carpet or sit in the audience either. Ryan sees him for the full minute he’s on stage. He starts thinking of plots to run into him but none of them seem very likely.

“Thought you guys made up.” Cullen says. 

Ryan just shrugs. 

“You staying in in the G-spot?” 

“No.” Ryan takes a sip of his drink and sets it down on the table before reconsidering and gulping down the rest, “Put the house for sale.” 

“Move to Charlotte.” Cullen offers, “Yo you can-” 

Ryan shakes his head no before Cullen can finish. 

“Then where dude?”

“I don’t know.” Ryan answers, repeating three words he’s tired of hearing himself say. “Maybe DB… My dad’s not doing so good so-” 

“He sick?” Cullen asks concerned. 

“I don’t know.” Ryan frowns as he says it again, “I’ve been coaching his teams last week cause he’s not-” 

“You’re coaching?” Cullen laughs. 

“Dude.” Ryan stops him, “I’m tryin’”

“Hope your dad’s okay man.” Cullen offers, “When d’you find out?” 

“Don’t know.” Ryan holds out his empty glass to a passing waiter, motioning for a new drink, “Maybe he’s good y’know just not coaching as much.” 

He knows it’s a lie because he knows his dad wouldn’t ever just stop coaching. The more he thinks about it, the more Ryan realizes that this has to be serious. He feels the weight of the realization add to the load pressing down on his shoulders. He thinks of the sets he left behind for Kristin, how he really hadn’t needed to come to New York, How he’d mostly come to see Michael and how Michael wasn’t even around. 

“Hey.” Cullen claps his shoulder, “Your dad’s good Ry.” He comforts, sensing his friend’s distress. “Don’t sweat it.” 

Ryan’s next drink comes a few seconds later and he takes a sip before nodding along to Cullen’s reassurances. 

“You movin’ cause of the psycho?” Cullen asks. 

“Fuck.” Ryan closes his eyes, “Don’t.” 

“We do dumb shit.” Cullen doesn’t apologize, “You an MP’s like… I had my wedding speech written dude.” 

Ryan winces as he pounds back the drink that is a lot stronger than the previous one. He waits to feel some kind of numbness wash over but nothing happens. Cullen takes his empty glass and holds it out to a waiter. 

“He doesn’t want me back.” Ryan hangs his head, “Pretty clear.” 

Cullen considers his fuck up. Ryan had been in an okay mood when they’d gotten to the award show and now his best friend is sullen and sad. He grabs a drink off a passing waiter, not caring that it probably wasn’t meant for their table, and hands it to Ryan. 

“Get fucked up.” Cullen offers, “You’ll feel better.” 

“Can’t.” Ryan considers the new drink for a second, “I wanna talk to him.” 

“Looks like he’s not talking to no one.” Cullen points out, “He’s not even out here.” 

“Then I gotta go back there.” Ryan says. 

“I don’t think he wants to see you.” Cullen says as gently as possible, “You can move on dude-” 

Ryan holds a hand up for Cullen to be quiet and he downs his third drink grimacing.  
“What the fuck was that.” He says disgusted. 

“Dunno.” Cullen admits, “Just grabbed it.” 

“Fuck.” Ryan grabs his water and drinks to get the taste out of his mouth, “That was straight up whatever shit.” 

“You’ll find someone else.” Cullen asserts, “You’re hot.” 

Ryan dismisses his best friend’s statement as he swallows back the nausea that had hit him straight after drinking the mystery drink. His thumb rubs against the rim of the glass and he zones out. 

Michael and him had been able to talk last time. They could do it again. He takes another gulp of water and reaches for the wine bottle on the table instead of risking Cullen handing him another drink. 

Even when he wins his award, Ryan doesn’t see Michael backstage. He’s definitely drunk by the end and as they leave the venue, he grips Cullen’s arm to steady himself. 

“Baby you’re good.” Cullen laughs as he guides Ryan down the stairs, “Come on Reez I can be your wingman but I need you to be awake.”

“I’m not-” Ryan argues. 

“No.” Cullen insists, “You need a rebound-” 

“No.” Ryan still argues, “I need to find Mike.” 

“Step down.” Cullen instructs ignoring Ryan’s request, “I don’t need you to break your knee.” 

Despite Cullen’s instruction, Ryan’s foot slides down a step and he falls down landing hard on his side. 

“Shit.” Cullen mutters. 

People stop around them to look and Cullen realizes that he hasn’t helped. Being falling down drunk has not done Ryan or Ryan’s reputation any good. 

“Yo.” Cullens keeps grinning, “How am I suppose to find you a hook up if you won’t even walk. Get up.” 

“I hate stairs.” Ryan mutters. 

What Ryan hates is being drunk. Hates that he came to New York instead of staying in Daytona to help out his sister. While he’s still sitting on the cold concrete he thinks again of the sets he left for Kristin and hopes they’re okay. 

“Ryan come on.” Cullen’s voice is serious, “We can just go to the hotel.” 

“No.” Ryan refuses, “I gotta find Mike.” 

“Maybe that’s not the best idea.” Cullen tries to rationalize, “We’ll get pizza and then we can-” 

“No.” Ryan is determined, “We’re gonna go where everyone else.” 

“Ry.” Cullen sits down next to him on the step, “You want him to see you like this?” 

Ryan has stopped trying to get up, his eyes can’t focus on the next step and he has nothing to hold on to. He closes his eyes, hangs his head and for a brief moment thinks that maybe this is what Austin felt like. 

“This is my bad.” Cullen takes the blame, “You want to go we go.” 

“No.” Ryan says finally defeated, “I don’t wanna look-” 

“Alright.” Cullen stands up and reaches down for Ryan’s hand, “Let’s go.” 

Ryan lets Cullen guide him to a waiting car and sits with his head leaning forward. He feels Cullen’s hand on the back of his neck and leans sideways against him for comfort. The stop and go of New York City traffic makes Ryan car sick and he’s way more gone by the time they get to the hotel than he’d been at the award show. He throws up as soon as he reaches his hotel room bathroom. 

Cullen stays with him, makes sure he’s still alive from the other side of the bathroom door and handing over a bottle of water before turning on the shower and digging through Ryan’s suitcase to find his toothbrush and his toothpaste. 

“I’m so fucked dude.” Ryan says quietly sitting on the floor with his toothbrush in his mouth. 

“You’re good.” Cullen comforts, “You’re drunk.” 

“Not good.” Ryan counters before brushing his teeth. He spits toothpaste into the open shower door and leans against the glass for a second, “Things are spinning.” 

Cullen squats down and puts a hand on Ryan’s back to steady him, “I got you.” He reassures, “Go to bed dude.” 

It takes a minute for Ryan to decide to move. He stumbles over his own feet once and Cullen has to be quick to hold him up. 

“Gimme your jacket.” Cullen asks once he has Ryan sitting on the bed, “I’ll put it on a-” 

“If he won’t like-” Ryan starts, “I dunno what I’m gonna-” 

“You’re gonna move on.” Cullen tries, “Dude Mike can’t be the only guy you ever-” 

“No.” Ryan groans, falling backwards to lie across the bed. 

“Exactly.” Cullen answers, he tugs at the sleeve of Ryan’s jacket until Ryan shrugs out of it. 

“We’re gonna have kids.” Ryan mumbles.

Cullen hangs Ryan’s jacket on the back of one of the chairs and walks back over to the bed to take off Ryan’s shoes. He doesn’t know what to answer back; he’d never known the two of them had been that serious. A part of him selfishly resents that his best friend hadn’t kept him in the loop with that part of his life. 

“There’s other people you can have kids with.” Cullen answers, putting both of Ryan’s shoes by the jacket draped chair, “I’m gonna take your pants off, no homo man.” 

Cullen undoes Ryan’s belt and starts on the button of his pants before Ryan reaches down and clumsily undoes them himself. He kicks them off and they land a few feet from the bed.

“Thanks for wearing undwear dude.” Cullen tries to joke. 

“The crowns shit in Athens were made outta Olive trees.” Ryan’s mumbles are growing quieter.

“Yeah they messed up your hair.” Cullen reminds him. He’s scared that maybe Ryan’s a lot drunker than he’d thought. “Dude don’t pass out, you gotta drink some water.” 

Ryan looks ridiculous in his dress shirt, tie, socks and underwear but Cullen doesn’t feel like laughing. He pulls at Ryan’s shoulder trying to get him to sit up and hands him an open water bottle. He stays behind him to make sure his friend doesn’t fall back down. 

“I’m sorry I got you drunk dude.” Cullen honestly apologizes. “I didn’t know-” 

“I suck at coaching.” Ryan says between gulps of water, “No one’s goin’ faster.” 

“You’re helping out Ry.” Cullen reaches around to undo Ryan’s grey tie, “It’s what your dad cares ‘bout.” 

Ryan gags halfway through the bottle of water and Cullen reaches for the ice bucket he’d put by the bedside table. He hands it to Ryan and keeps his fist balled up in the back of Ryan’s dress shirt to keep him upright. 

“My dad hates gays.” Ryan whispers once he’s stopped throwing up, “Calls ‘em fags.”

“He doesn’t hate you.” Cullen reassures. “You want your shirt off?” 

Ryan nods and clumsily puts the ice bucket down on the floor before leaning back against Cullen. 

“I didn’t know it was that bad, I’m sorry.” Cullen apologizes, struggling with the buttons and the cufflink of Ryan’s dress shirt, “Drink more water.” 

Ryan takes one more sip before dropping the bottle off the bed. It tumbles down to soak the carpet. 

“You can stay with me.” Cullen offers, “It’ll be good.” 

Ryan shakes his head no before falling back against the pillows. Cullen guides him on his side before pulling the blankets up over him. 

“I’m gonna stay here.” Cullen says, “Make sure you’re good.” 

“Sorry.” Ryan slurs.

“No.” Cullen toes off his shoes and leans back against the headboard, “We’re good.” 

Cullen doesn’t know if Ryan falls asleep or if he passes out but once Ryan’s quiet and his breathing is even, he reaches for his phone. 

He doesn’t even know if he has the right number and doubts Ryan has it either. He flicks through his contacts once before going back through old text messages to find what he’s looking for. He dials, expecting a no service, automated message. Instead he gets Michael’s voicemail. 

Cullen knows Ryan had fucked up but Ryan’s his best friend and he’s never seen him this hurt. 

 

**New York City, November 19th**

 

Despite the fact that he owns a million dollar apartment somewhere in the city, Michael wakes up in a hotel room. He’d forgotten to close the curtains the night before and so he wakes up to the sun blazing right on his bed. It reminds him of his old condo with the full wall of windows. 

He had purposefully avoided Ryan. He’d heard people excuse him all night, saying he didn’t want to do press and he’d gone along with it. The truth though was that he didn’t want to be alone with Ryan. It had worked and he’d left the award show before anyone else. 

His flight back to Baltimore is in a few hours but unlike previous years, he’s not in a hurry to get back to training. He turns on his side, away from the window, and grabs his phone. 

He scrolls past the pictures Allison has sent and all his instagram alerts. He checks his email before going for his voicemail. 

There’s one from his mom congratulating him for last night and reminding him of Thanksgiving dinner. There’s another one from Conor who’s way too drunk for anything he says to make sense. The last one is from Cullen. Michael wasn’t even aware Cullen had his phone number.

“Hey man,” Cullen starts, sounding unsure, “I know it’s none of my business but Ry dude... He’s not good. Like whatever you want to happen just do it. Break up with him for good or take him back. I don’t give a fuck but you have to do something. Just not tonight he’s- Just break up with him for good-”

Michael deletes the message before Cullen can continue. He feels like calling back and explaining that Ryan and him have been broken up for almost a year. That in no way are they still together, that Ryan had moved on first. He wants to yell at someone and tell them that he has a place in the city that he’d bought for the both of them. A place that by now should be a home filled with furniture and sneakers and maybe a room for a baby. He has a place for the both of them and it’s done. 

He wants to call Ryan and yell at him to stop using his family and friends to beg his case; to stop playing the victim because this isn’t his fault. Ryan’s not good because of things Ryan’s done. Ryan’s not his responsibility anymore. He’s not supposed to care about the way Ryan feels. 

Michael thinks of calling Ryan to tell him to fuck off once and for all. He finds his number and is ready to hit dial when he pushes his phone away instead. No matter how angry and hurt he is, he can’t pretend that he doesn’t still care about Ryan. 

He’s had three offers on the apartment already and he’s refused all of them. 

 

**Daytona Beach, Thanksgiving**

 

Thanksgiving is one of Ryan’s favourite holidays. He loves how everyone gets together; he loves how so much family packs into his mom’s kitchen and dining room. Instead of his mom’s kitchen though, his entire family spends the day before Thanksgiving crowded in a doctor’s office on the oncology floor of the hospital.

Afterwards, Ryan drives from the hospital in a fog. He loops around the underground parking lot twice before figuring out the arrows. He forgets to pay his parking and has to loop back until he can spot a machine. He keeps hearing the words and keeps seeing the looks on everyone’s face. He can still feel his dad squeeze his shoulder. He can’t get the hospital smell out of his nose. 

Devon is in the passenger seat but doesn’t talk, Ryan can’t remember the last time they’ve sat together this long in total silence. He aimlessly drives around the hospital a few times looking for the right exit out to the street. He doesn’t turn his stereo on; he doesn’t want to associate any of his favourite songs with this moment. 

It hadn’t been good news. 

Ryan had tried to listen to the doctor speak but he’d kept getting stuck on words. Advanced. Spread. Survival Rate. Two years. 

Ryan had kept thinking that maybe if they hadn’t all been in London his dad might have gotten it checked sooner, that while he was calling asking how to fix dry wall his dad had known things were bad. Maybe if he’d listened more or been there to help or done more of the Speed Club clinics his dad had planned. 

In the oncologist’s office, Ryan had been squished between Devon and his dad. Neither of them had offered any real comfort though. Watching Kristin and Megan with their husbands, the only person he’d wanted with him was Michael. He knows that if Michael had been there things would be different. Michael would have already had a list of things to do by the time they’d walked out of the office. Michael would have had real time concrete things to do to make Ryan feel less helpless. 

All Ryan has is a three hours a day practice to take charge of and a clipboard that’s meant to hold drills and sets but mostly just holds doodles of Carter as an astronaut. 

Devon has his head cradled in his hands and Ryan wishes he could do the same, just block the world out for a bit. He wants to be somewhere where he can let the numbness take over. 

Ryan zones out and the car drifts to the side, he hits the sleeper lines and the rumbles jolts him back to reality. Before Ryan can react, Devon reaches over to grab the steering wheel and steers the car away from the shoulder. 

“Stop driving.” Devon commands “Pull over.” 

Ryan drives down the road and pulls over in the first parking lot he finds. He turns off the engine and leans back in his seat with his eyes closed. 

“Just drive to mom’s.” Devon says, “We’re ten minutes away.” 

Ryan lets out a breath but doesn’t move. 

“I know what you’re thinking Ry and-” Devon starts to say. 

Ryan holds a hand to silence his brother because he doesn’t know what to answer or what Devon wants to hear. Doesn’t want to think that now’s the time to come out. He can’t cope with thinking that he has to go through this alone. 

“Move.” Devon pushes his shoulder, “I’ll drive.” 

“No.” Ryan insists, “I-” 

“I want to get to moms alive so move.” Devon opens his door and walks around the car. “Go.” He says once he’s opened Ryan’s door. “I got you.” 

“S’not how it works.” Ryan says frustrated, “I-” 

“I got my shit together.” Devon insists, “Don’t worry about me.” 

Devon drives and Ryan tips his hat forward to hide his face. 

“I’ll help you coach.” Devon offers, “I can drive up… I helped out dad last summer it’s not a big deal I know the kids and it’s not gonna be all on you.” 

“That’s not it.” Ryan tries to explain, he hates that even his younger brother gets that one swim class might be too much responsibility for him to handle. 

“We’ll get through it.” Devon reassures, “We got each other dude. It’ll be okay.” 

*

Their mom is happy to have them home. 

Ryan lies on the couch in the living room and stares as Brandon’s lizard crawls slowly across the room. Carter, who’s sleeping on the floor in front of the couch doesn’t even raise his head, the lizard seemingly not coming across as a threat. 

Ryan looses track of time, he thinks he might have dozed off but doesn’t bother looking at his watch to check. He doesn’t acknowledge the occasional appearance from his mom or from one of his sisters. Ignores their toe taping and their sighs. He doesn’t answer back when Kristin exasperatedly snaps her fingers in front of his face. 

He can smell turkey and knows everyone is putting on a brave face. He hears Kristin yell the instructions for making mashed potatoes and the fire alarm go off when his mom opens the oven door to check the turkey. 

“Ryan.” Kristin’s voice is dry, “You’re tall enough to reach the alarm. We need you.” 

He closes his eyes and ignores her. Turns to face the back of the sofa and waits until he hears her walk back into the kitchen to open them. 

“What’s wrong with him?” He hears his sister complain to whoever else is in the kitchen. “We’re all going through this.” 

“It’s different.” His mother says in his defense, “For Ryan.” 

“He’s an adult.” Kristin snaps, “We can’t take care of him too.”

When Ryan turns back to face the living room, Brandon’s lizard is nowhere to be seen. Carter lifts up his head to lick Ryan’s face before jumping up to curl around his feet. Ryan falls asleep. 

*

Ryan gets up when Ike puts her hands on his face to wake him up for dinner. He avoids Kristin’s angry glances as he sits and eats and helps feed his nephew. He tries to follow along to what Brandon says about school. It’s surreal to think that they’re all here and that in a year his dad probably won’t be. 

He clears the table without being told and that seems to get Kristin off his back for a few hours. He helps Devon set up an air mattress and blankets on the floor of their shared bedroom so that both of them have a place to sleep. 

“Ry?” Devon says carefully while they’re waiting for the air mattress to inflate. 

“I’m okay DC.” Ryan tries to sound convincing, “I’m just like… I got a lot in my head.”

“I’ll coach with you tomorrow.” Devon offers, “I’ll look over your sets. Dad said he’d come by and-” 

“We’ll do that.” Ryan nods, “Thanks.” 

“B and I are gonna go drive around. We have fireworks.” Devon tries to entice him. 

“No.” Ryan refuses, “I’m beat.”

“I don’t want you being here alone.” Devon admits. 

“What am I gonna do dude?” Ryan tries to smile, “I’m safer somewhere with no fireworks.”

“Like.” Devon grabs hold of Ryan’s t-shirt, fisting a handful of the material close to his brother’s side, “Usually you got me but I got you too you know?” 

Ryan nods. 

“Like you fuck up but I do too and you never like not helped me fix it so it’s the same.” Devon continues. 

“Go with B.” Ryan answers instead, “I got the mattress.” 

Devon lets go of his shirt and takes a hesitant step back. He’s about to walk out when he reconsiders and starts digging through his pocket. 

“Here.” Devon hands him a torn off envelope corner. 

“What’s it?” Ryan asks. 

“His number.” Devon explains, not having to mention Michael’s name. “Call.” 

“He doesn’t want me to call him.” Ryan hands the piece of paper back to Devon. 

“S’not like he calls me dude, why d’you think I have it? Me an’ him aren’t friends. He keeps me ‘round ‘cause it’s like having you.” 

Ryan considers Devon’s answer for a second before putting the number in his pocket. 

“Seriously call.” Devon demands, “Tell him you need him-” 

“I don’t.” 

“You do Ry.” Devon corrects, “Like either you call or you get over him but you gotta do something. After this I’m like done with it.” 

“Tell mom I’m sleeping.” Ryan requests, “Take my car.” 

Devon rolls his eyes at him before leaving. 

Ryan waits until he hears Brandon and Devon drive off. He has to convince himself that it’s not too late in Baltimore for him to call and finally, after staring at the piece of paper for too long he picks up his phone and dials. 

He hasn’t changed his number, so he knows Michael will see he’s calling. He takes it as a good sign when he’s not sent straight to voicemail. 

“Hey.” Ryan says carefully when Michael answers, “It’s me.” 

“Everything okay?” Michael asks because he can’t imagine Ryan calling him out of the blue for nothing. Michael’s mind automatically goes back to New York and to Cullen’s message.

“Happy Thanksgiving.” Ryan says feeling ridiculous, “You with your fam?” 

“Yeah…” Michael answers reluctantly, “Happy Thanksgiving too.” 

“I’m at my moms.” Ryan keeps blabbering, feeling stupider by the second, “We didn’t deep fry the turkey this year so-” 

“Ryan.” Michael interrupts, “Everything okay?” 

“Um…No.” Ryan admits, “But like I just wanna… not talk about it… Wanna play some Call of-” 

“I have people over.” Over in Baltimore, Michael leans against his kitchen counter glancing at his family gathered around the table in the dining room, “I can’t…” 

“It’s okay. I shouldn’t have called I just-” Ryan stumbles on his words. 

“I’ll call you later.” Michael says more out of habit than promise.

“Ok yeah.” Ryan hates how hopeful he sounds.

“Not like tonight I have stuff but-” Michael says hurriedly, “I’ll see you around dude.”

“Ok. Ok yeah.” Ryan nods, feeling stupid for his hopefulness, “I’ll like.. see you around. Bye.” 

Ryan hangs up feeling embarrassed and regretting having called. He shoves his phone under his pillow and gets into the bed, not having the patience to wait for the air mattress. He can switch when Devon gets home. 

*

Ryan’s phone wakes him up from a dead sleep. He answers the call but looks at the time before he speaks. It’s past 3am. 

He flicks on the baseball lamp and sees Devon sleeping on the air mattress.

“Hey.” He speaks without looking at the caller ID. 

“Hey.” Michael answers unsure, “I said I’d call back.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan steps over Devon and walks out of the room, silently padding across the hallway to reach the stairs, “You didn’t have to dude I’m- Thanks.” 

“I can’t sleep so I thought I’d play some COD… If you want to-” 

“Yeah.” Ryan tries not to sound too eager, “Lemme just figure out Brandon’s stuff, gimme a minute.”

Brandon’s controllers and headsets are strewn about the living room floor and it takes a minute for Ryan to find everything and turn it all on. Michael stays on the line, neither of them speak and the silence isn’t awful. 

“How’s your Thanksgiving?” Ryan asks, trying to remember his account password, “Dude you might have to add B, I’m not having luck logging on.” 

“My mom and Bowman are together.” Michael admits because Ryan’s really the only person he can complain to about this, “It’s weird.” 

“That’s…” Ryan searches for the right word, “weird dude.” 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees, “How’s yours?” 

Ryan’s not ready to tell anyone about his dad and he’s not ready to be that open to Michael about it. 

“Kinda sucked- Just a lot of shit I don’t know…” 

“You didn’t have to watch Bowman kiss your mom so-” 

“That’s so weird.” Ryan agrees, “D’you remember my password?” 

“Carter2008” Michael recalls, “If you haven’t changed it.”

“That’s it.” Ryan says thankfully, “D’you see me?”

“Yeah you just popped up.” Michael confirms, “Hang up we can talk through-” 

“Got it.” Ryan slips on Brandon’s headset, “Later.” 

Once they start playing, they stop talking. There’s a few joking trash talk sentences exchanged but for the most part they just play. Without meaning to, Ryan falls asleep mid play and when he wakes up the next morning Michael’s logged off. 

Ryan doesn’t pretend to want to head back to Gainesville. He drives Devon back a few days later, gathers some of his things and drives back to his mom’s house. He wakes up to swim alone at the speed club in the morning but after three days, his solo practices become more and more sporadic. 

He starts dreading going to the pool and coaching while the swimmers’ parents look on expectantly waiting for the time sheets to be posted, waiting to talk to him after practice, waiting to complain about the lack of progress. 

Brandon has a punching bag in the garage and Ryan spends hours hitting it because between spending his time between the pool and sitting with his dad while he gets treatment he doesn’t have time for anything else. 

He catches Brandon smoking pot with friends after school and doesn’t know if it’s his place to tell their mom. He knows he doesn’t treat him the way he would have treated Devon. He comes to realize that as much as he loves his youngest brother they don’t really know each other. 

He hires someone to patch up the walls and the doors of his house in Gainesville and while the realtor is happy with the repairs there are no offers. 

Ryan feels stuck. 

Everyday, once his mom and Brandon are asleep he stays up and waits to see if Michael’s name pops up on Xbox Live. They don’t really talk but it’s better than nothing. It makes Ryan feel like things are good. He doesn’t tell Michael about his day but listens when Michael talks about his. He falls asleep on the couch more than he should. 

By the last week of November, his dad is in the hospital and Ryan’s officially the worst coach ever hired. He reaches out to Kyle and to anyone he knows for help and tries to spend as much time with his dad and Brandon as possible. He’s too tired to play COD at 2am. 

He gets an offer on the house while he’s watching Brandon’s track practice. It’s a lowball offer and when they meet his slightly higher counter offer he accepts the sale. Devon and him have to be out by Christmas. Devon won’t let him pay his rent. 

When Ryan gets home that night Michael’s not online. 

His call gets sent to voice mail.


	7. December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't the last chapter.

**December 23rd 2012**

**Gainesville, 8 am**

“You sure you don’t wanna drive with me?” Devon asks Ryan when he walks into the kitchen with his backpack and a shopping bag filled with clumsily wrapped presents.

Their house is empty. Devon’s moved his things into his girlfriend’s apartment and the majority of Ryan’s boxes are in storage. All Ryan has left is a suitcase, his macbook, Carter’s bed and a box of shoes packed in his car waiting to be driven to Daytona Beach.

It’s the first time in a month that Ryan’s back in Gainesville. A moving company had packed up his belongings while he stayed in Daytona to help out his family. He’s leaving the program he’s spent years of his life swimming for with nowhere to go. He has offers, Cullen’s invitation to Charlotte still stands but Ryan can’t get himself to leave his family. 

Ryan only gets in the water to hook up pool lanes and to swim a few laps before anyone else is at the pool. He spends his mornings and late afternoon coaching and the time in between with his dad at the hospital. The time he spends with his dad is strained because he can’t bring himself to tell the truth. Ryan is convinced that coming out to his father will be the end of their relationship. 

Instead of talking about his life, his dad and him talk about set lists until a nurse comes around with meds and announces visiting hours are over. Ryan brings him time sheets to look over and Steven makes adjustments. Ryan is ashamed that his dad’s taking care of the one responsibility he’s taken over. Ryan hasn’t told his dad he’s stopped training. 

Ryan tries to listen when his mom tells him he’s wrong. She repeats over and over that he doesn’t understand how much his dad loves him. Ryan tries to imagine having a son and somehow it makes him feel worst. It reminds him of the time Michael had been handed Zaydin and how despite having a nephew and a niece of his own, Michael hadn’t known how to hold a baby. 

Together in the living room afterwards, with the baby settled in Michael’s arms, Ryan had felt for the first time that if he was going to have kids with anyone he wanted to have them with Michael. 

“We can take your car.” Devon offers when Ryan doesn’t answer.

“I gotta hand over the keys.” Ryan explains, shaking his head to get rid of the thought. “The office doesn’t open ‘til nine.”

“I can wait. No rush.” 

Devon doesn’t want to leave Ryan alone. He’s never seen Ryan look lost and beaten down. He’s never seen Ryan try to hide. 

“Ry.” Devon snaps his fingers when Ryan doesn’t answer again “Come on we’re driving together.” 

“You’re gonna need your car.” Ryan rationalizes. “I ain’t driving back here after Christmas dude.” 

“You sure?” He asks anyways.

“Yeah.” Ryan says a bit too harshly, “I can drive two hours Chunks.” 

“Dude.” Devon frowns, unimpressed by the nickname he hates “I’m being fucking nice to you.” 

Ryan’s taken care of him his entire life but Devon doesn’t know how much longer he can keep looking out for Ryan. 

“You are.” Ryan says apologetically, “I just wanna be alone.” 

Ryan is around people all day. He loves his sister but her micromanagement is driving him crazy. He loves the kids he coaches but their parents make him want to run to his car and hide as soon as practice is over. He loves his mom but her never-ending worried looks make him feel horribly guilty. 

“Ok.” Devon says skeptically, “I’ll follow you.”

“I gotta drop off the keys.” Ryan reminds him, brushing off his brother’s suggestion. “I swear I’m right behind you. Go help Mom with the tree.” 

“Ok.” Devon still doesn’t sound sure but he can’t physically force Ryan to get into his car, “Call when you leave?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan reassures him, “Go dude. I’m good.” 

“Want me to take Carter?” Devon figures that having the dog gives him some assurance that Ryan will follow him to Daytona Beach. 

“No.” Ryan reaches down to pet Carter’s head, “I got him.” 

Devon hovers unsure. He shoulders his backpack and walks forward to hug Ryan. 

“I love you.” He says unexpectedly, “Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan hugs Devon back, laughing. “Me too.”

“Please just-” Devon starts. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” Devon lets go of Ryan and taps his arm. “Drive safe.” 

 

**December 23rd 2012,  
Daytona Beach, 1 pm **

Devon gets to his mom’s house just before lunch. 

“Ryan’s not with you?” His mom asks looking pained, “Is he-” 

“He had to drop off the keys.” Devon explains hugging her. He tries to sound convincing “He’s two hours behind me.” 

They go pick out a Christmas tree and once it’s standing almost upright in the corner of the living room, Devon helps Brandon find the boxes of decorations stashed in the low ceilinged attic. They spend the next hour untangling Christmas lights and unwrapping ornaments.

They start decorating the tree expecting Ryan to show up at any minute but when Devon still hasn’t heard from Ryan three hours after he was meant to drop the keys off he starts to understand that Ryan isn’t on his way to Daytona Beach. 

Kristin’s the first one who voices her concern. 

“Did he say how long he’d be?” She worries, once the tree is decorated and the gingerbread is baking for their cookie decorating contest “It doesn’t take this long to hand over keys I don’t-” She looks at Devon expectantly and gives up frustrated when he doesn’t answer. 

“I’m calling him.” She announces like it’s some kind of last resort, like somewhere wherever he is, Ryan should stop dead in his tracks and head home fearful of Kristin’s wrath. 

“He’s not answering.” Devon has to admit then, “I’ve been trying. His phone’s dead or he turned it off. His voicemail’s full.”

The silence that follows speaks their worries louder than any conversation they could have had. 

“He wouldn’t-” Megan’s husband starts. 

“No.” Devon’s voice isn’t as assertive as he’d hoped but he has to stand up for Ryan. Has to be the one to remind everyone that Ryan is Ryan even when he’s sad and purposeless. 

More silence follows his words and Devon takes the time to reassure himself. Ryan had Carter, Ryan had his car, Ryan had worked on sets for the next practice and Ryan had him. Ryan wasn’t going to leave. 

“We can’t tell mom.” Kristin finally says, more a declaration than a thought, “We know where he is. If she asks.”

“Maybe he couldn’t with dad-” Megan starts to offer an explanation. 

“He was just dropping off the keys.” Devon defends Ryan again, “Maybe he ran out of gas or like his car’s broke or he got- I dunno but Ry wouldn’t-” 

Devon doesn’t know what Ryan wouldn’t do anymore though. Ryan wouldn’t break up with Michael, Ryan wouldn’t date Austin, Ryan wouldn’t let someone else make decisions for it, Ryan wouldn’t quit, Ryan wouldn’t leave Gainesville, Ryan wouldn’t abandon him, Ryan wouldn’t come back to Daytona to coach, Ryan wouldn’t… The list is endless. For the first time in a year, Devon realizes that he doesn’t really get Ryan. 

“Maybe he’s fixing his own life instead of everyone else’s.” Brandon stops all of them. 

 

**December 23rd 2012  
Baltimore, 5pm**

Michael has a pile of presents and four rolls of wrapping paper but he can’t find tape or the motivation to wrap anything. He stares at his ambitious evening plans, laid across his dining room table, and looks at Herman for advice.

“Yeah.” He answers like the bulldog and him share the same thoughts, “Doesn’t look like fun.” 

His family doesn’t exchange presents until Christmas morning so Michael has the luxury of another day of procrastination. He walks away from the table, grabs a beer in the kitchen and sinks into the couch. He tries to find something that isn’t a Christmas special or a rerun of How I Met Your Mother but doesn’t have much luck. He checks Xbox Live but Ryan isn’t logged on. 

Michael hates how much he’s allowed himself to enjoy spending time with Ryan. How easy it is to unleash all the things he can’t tell to anyone else on Ryan who for the most part just listens. Despite spending a good chunk of time every week playing together, Michael has no idea what’s going on in Ryan’s life. He selfishly doesn’t really care. Ryan and him are slowly inching back to what it had been at the very start of everything and Michael isn’t even sure he’s okay with that. 

“How is this show on ten fucking channels?” He asks Herman again as he comes across yet another episode of How I Met Your Mother. He silently curses Ted Mosby but can’t find a more appealing option. He watches for a few minutes before flicking to a rerun of the 1984 Superbowl playing on the sports history channel he got when he signed for the full sports package. 

It starts to snow outside. Michael walks up to the window, peaks out at the street and wishes he had more food in his fridge. He’s hungry but can’t bring himself to drive out to grab something in what looks like the start of a snowstorm and his delivery options aren’t that appealing. He grabs a chocolate bar from his candy drawer and another beer from the fridge before sitting back to watch the last part of a football game. 

“You can’t even see the ball.” He tells Stella while he chews through a mouthful of chocolate, peanuts and caramel. He waves the candy bar at the screen pointing out the hazy pre-HD footage, “What’s the point.” 

Stella doesn’t care about football but she does care about his food. Her head follows his hand and she whines when he scratches behind her ears instead of giving her a bite. 

“It’s poison to you.” He tries to reason. “You can’t have any.” 

He walks to the kitchen to get treats for both dogs and magically finds scissors in the same drawer. His phone rings on his way back to the living room. He answers while laughing at the way Herman begs for treats. 

“Um okay.” Devon says instead of a greeting. “Here’s the thing.” 

“What?” Michael challenges unworriedly. He tosses the treats to his dogs, “Something wrong dude?”

“Ryan just called me from a truck stop in Virginia?”

“Dev.” Michael groans, settling back on the couch. “That’s not my problem… We’re not.” 

“He’s on his way to see you.”

“What?” Michael sits up. 

“I think he’s driving to Baltimore.”

“Or he’s driving to see Cullen.” Michael offers, “Or Kyle or-” 

“He’d be at Cullen’s already.” Devon explains impatiently, “Kyle’s home for Christmas. He drove to Gainesville to see if Ryan was around.” 

“How d’you know he’s on his way here?” Michael looks out the window again, squinting against the snow expecting Ryan to be there waiting. 

“Cause you’re the only place he wants to go.” 

Michael has nothing to answer to that. 

“If he shows up like…” Devon keeps going unsure, “Be nice… Don’t tell him to fuck off just… I don’t know, let him stay ‘till I pick him up or- Dude I don’t wanna-” 

“Dev.” Michael stops him, “Ryan’s not-”

“Yeah.” Devon insists, “He is.” 

“I can help him find a hotel.” Michael offers and it’s more than he wants to do, “But like.” 

“Fine.” Devon accepts it but doesn’t sound happy. 

“Why isn’t he home?” Michael can’t help but ask because the Ryan he knows wouldn’t leave his family two days before Christmas. 

“It’s- Things aren’t good.” Devon’s voice breaks, “Our dad’s real sick… It’s like stage four and they dunno if they can get it.” 

“Shit.” Michael glances outside again because he doesn’t know what else to do or say. He thinks of all the nights he’s spent talking to Ryan about his problems and how Ryan had listened to him complain about his mom and Bob and retirement and being bored. Ryan had never cut in to share his own problems. He scans the street even though he knows there’s no way Ryan can be close to Baltimore yet. 

“It’s like a fifteen hour drive so he won’t be there ‘til late.” Devon continues, “If he calls me again I’ll-” 

“Yeah.” Michael reassures. “He’s probably not though… Maybe he turned around.”

“Yeah maybe.” Devon entertains the idea but doesn’t seem too hopeful. “Just please dude make sure he’s good ‘till we can get there. You don’t care ‘bout him but like we do.” 

Devon’s last sentence hits Michael hard. 

“It’s not that I don’t care.” Michael says carefully. 

“It’s tough with Dad.” Devon reminds him, “You know what it’s like with-”

“Yeah.” 

Michael knows exactly what Ryan’s relationship with his father is like. Knows exactly that while they’d been planning to move in together and have a baby Ryan hadn’t even been willing to come out to his parents. They were out to Michael’s family and yet back in Daytona Beach they had to act like friends, Ryan would barely even sit next to him at dinner. 

Michael had witnessed Steven yelling at Ryan during a meet long before Ryan and him were friends. 

“You don’t gotta let him stay.” Devon barters, “Just make sure he’s safe. ‘Cause we’re friends.” 

“I’ll call you.” Michael reassures, “There’s a snowstorm here he’s not gonna keep driving.” 

Michael knows Ryan though and he knows that Ryan won’t turn back. He spends the rest of his evening looking out the window searching for Ryan’s car. He waits for a phone call from Devon telling him Ryan had turned up in Daytona after all or at Cullen’s. The snowstorm gets worst and Michael worries. He looks up the local news on his ipad and searches for car crash reports. He fights the urge to call back Devon asking for an update. 

He tries to call Ryan but doesn’t get an answer. 

“This is dumb.” He tells his dogs, “He’s not coming here.” 

 

**December 23rd 2012  
Baltimore, 11pm **

Ryan’s car spins out in an empty intersection ten minutes away from where the GPS tells him Michael lives. Ryan’s never driven to Baltimore from Gainesville, he’s never driven to Michael’s from anywhere but the airport. 

His Range Rover stops spinning facing what on a busier night would have been oncoming traffic, a lone taxi driver honks at him before driving around. 

“Woah.” He forces himself to relax his grip on the steering wheel, “We’re good.” He says out loud for Carter’s benefit. 

With snow falling down so hard he can barely see two feet in front of him, Ryan can’t remember when this had been a good idea. At what point had driving to Baltimore been the smart thing to do? He could have gone to Mexico; he could have gone to spend Christmas with Kyle. He could have gone to his mom’s house. He could have gone to Cullen’s or anywhere really. He can’t remember what his brain had said to get him to drive here. 

It’s freezing cold out and all of Ryan’s hoodies are in boxes somewhere inside a storage unit in Gainesville. He doubts he can find an empty hotel room two days before Christmas but he doesn’t know anyone else in Baltimore. He’s too tired to keep driving. 

He carefully U-turns back into his lane and slowly follows the GPS’ instructions to Michael’s house. As he gets closer to his destination the streets become more familiar and the stupidity of his decision becomes overwhelming. 

Ryan parks in one of the visitor parking spaces and waits before turning off the engine, trying to think of a better plan. His phone is dead and it’s too cold to sleep in his car. He can’t keep driving, especially not in the snow. He has no other idea; this is it. 

“Let’s do this.” Ryan says to an equally unconvinced Carter. 

He turns off the car and pockets his keys before reaching to clip the leash back on Carter’s collar. He opens his door and is greeted by a squall of snow. He rubs his bare arms and tries to convince Carter to walk forward. His dog, who has never seen snow, refuses to move. 

Ryan doesn’t know if Michael will answer his door. He tugs on Carter’s leash and the dog takes a few reluctant steps forward. 

Before he gets to the door, Ryan sees the front light turn on and a few seconds later he makes out Michael’s outline through the glass panel next to the door.

Ryan breathes a sigh of relief when Michael opens his door. 

“Dude.” Michael calls out exasperated fighting to be heard against the storm. He holds his door half open. “Why are you here?” 

Ryan doesn’t have an answer for him. He takes a step forward but Michael holds up his hands, motioning for him to stop. 

“Carter’s freezing.” Ryan says, “He’s never like seen snow.” 

“Yeah your dog can come in.” Michael allows. He holds out his hand for Carter’s leash. 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan clears his throat and takes a step to hand the shivering dog over, “I’ll like… Come back for him tomorrow… I got his bed in the car. He’ll eat whatever you feed Stella-” 

“Where are you going to stay?” Michael asks even though he really wishes he didn’t care. He really wishes he could have pretended not to be home. That he could tell Ryan to leave. 

Michael curses Devon and his stupid demands and his appeal to their friendship. He hates that he can’t be indifferent, that he can’t look at Ryan and pretend he isn’t hurting. 

“Dunno.” Ryan answers. He doesn’t elaborate because he has no idea. His only plan had been to get to Baltimore. 

Michael isn’t sure he wants Ryan on his couch or in his house or in his state but he also doesn’t want Ryan dead in a ditch because he’s tired and driving a car without winter tires.

“Just come up.” Michael sighs.

“Dude no.” Ryan refuses.

“Dude.” Michael tries hard not to roll his eyes, “Is there another plan?” 

Ryan shakes his head. 

“Come up.” Michael repeats, resigned “Bring your shit.” 

Carter wags his tail as Ryan takes his backpack and the dog bed out of his trunk. He slips a bit on some ice but gets his balance back. He follows Michael in silence. 

“Alarm code’s the same.” Michael explains, punching in the numbers of the keypad before locking the door behind Ryan. “Locks too. Still have your key?” 

“Um yeah.” Ryan holds up his beer cap opener keychain, “You can have it back I don’t-” 

“Where are your house keys?” Michael enquires noticing Ryan’s key ring is emptier than usual. 

“Sold it.” Ryan mumbles, “Gave them back.” 

“Where’s your new place?” 

“Don’t have one.” Ryan reveals, “I don’t really know you know?” 

Michael suddenly understands why Devon had called him. 

Ryan follows Michael from the entryway to the kitchen and through the living room without talking. He stops to put Carter’s bed down next to Herman’s but doesn’t talk or put down his backpack. 

Michael doesn’t know how to act around a Ryan who just keeps following him around. Doesn’t know what to say to a Ryan who isn’t talking. He walks back to his kitchen and waits leaning against the counter for Ryan to catch up. 

“We can order pizza.” Michael offers, defaulting to his and Ryan’s former basic hang out plan. “If you didn’t eat.”

“Yeah, that’s good.” Ryan agrees perking up slightly, “I drove straight I stopped to fill up and let Carter out and that’s it.” 

Michael wants to ask why. Instead he reaches for the pack of takeout menus he keeps in a drawer by the stove and riffles through it for their old pizza place. 

“You’re lucky you didn’t crash.” Michael declares looking up from the drawer. Despite the fact that Ryan and him aren’t together, he’s still annoyed by Ryan’s carelessness. 

“I spun out.” Ryan drops his bag by the island and sits on a stool at the counter. He swings back and forth a few times while he watches Michael read through the menu. 

“That was dumb.” Michael looks up from the toppings page. 

Ryan doesn’t answer. He keeps spinning on the stool, drumming his fingers against the counter. Like it’s a regular night and he’s just waiting for Michael to decide what kind of pizza he wants to order. 

“If you want.” Michael puts down the menu, because having Ryan in the same room is too weird. He looks at Ryan who’s in shorts and a t-shirt. “Your stuff’s still here. I have your hoodies.” 

Michael hates admitting that Ryan’s things are still there. That he hadn’t been able to throw them out or to send them back. That he’d come home after Ryan had broken up with him and picked everything that was Ryan’s and put it in a drawer in the guest bedroom, a drawer he never opened afterwards but was acutely aware existed. 

“Could shower.” Ryan says, “That cool?” 

“Yeah.” Michael tells him, “Towel’s are in the-”

“I know.” Ryan answers, he gets up from his stool and grabs his backpack, “Got it.” 

* 

As soon as he hears the shower running, Michael calls Devon. 

“He’s here.” He says before Devon can say hello. 

“Holy shit.” Devon sighs in relief, “We were like-” 

“He’s staying with me.” Michael cuts in because Devon sounds seriously worried, “He’s okay.” 

“Thanks.” Devon answers, “Dude it’s-” 

“He says he sold the house?” Michael asks wanting to understand what got Ryan to his front door. He figures that giving Ryan shelter has earned him answers. 

“Yeah.” Devon reluctantly confirms, “He’s been with our mom to help out ‘cause of Dad and-” 

“He never said.” Michael tries to think back to their late night conversations, “He-”

“The day he called you we found out.” Devon reveals. 

“He shouldn’t be here.” Michael complains and he realizes how stupid it is. Realizes that he’s complaining to Ryan’s baby brother. 

“I’m out.” Devon declares, “I dunno why he’s there but like-” 

“Thanks.” Michael says sarcastically. 

“You owe me.” Devon reminds him, “For London you-” 

Michael hangs up on Devon frustrated and he almost throws his phone across the kitchen in anger. The sound of Carter’s nails scratching across his floor snaps him back to reality. He calls for pizza instead. 

Ryan comes back dressed in sweat pants and a forgotten sweatshirt from 2008 Nationals. He sits across the couch from Michael and seconds later Carter is sitting on his lap, nudging his head under the hand Ryan has over the couch arm. 

“Pizza might be late cause of the storm.” Michael explains. 

“S’ok.” Ryan nods rubbing Carter’s side. “Thanks.”

Ryan’s not a stranger but he no longer belongs on Michael’s couch in his living room waiting for pizza. Michael tries to act like it’s normal. He turns the television on and stops on the tail end of a Christmas special. Ryan and him watch in total silence. 

The special ends and the pizza still hasn’t arrived. Michael can no longer stand the awkward quietness between Ryan and him. 

“Why are you here?” Michael asks, “It’s a fucking long drive and we’re-” 

“I don’t know.” Ryan says, “I couldn’t go…” 

He trails off and Michael waits. Michael doesn’t know if he should bring up anything he’d learned from Devon. 

“It’s okay you’re here.” Michael says because it’s evident Ryan’s having some kind of breakdown and Michael doesn’t want to be the one to send him over the edge, “But dude I gotta know if you’re like-” 

Michael doesn’t know how to finish the sentence and he realizes that this might be the most grown up conversation Ryan and him have ever had. 

“I felt so fucking-” Ryan starts and stops. He brings the neck of his hoodie up to rest over his nose. He balls his fists inside the sleeves and only his eyes peek out. 

Carter hovers nervously at Ryan’s feet before jumping up with both of his front paws on Ryan’s knees. He licks Ryan’s forehead and Ryan reaches out to scratch Carter’s ear before wiping tears off his face. 

“Dev said you were suppose to go home.” Michael asks unsure of what to do, he can hardly ever remember seeing Ryan cry. 

Ryan nods and wipes his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie. Carter licks his face again. 

“You loved your house dude.” Michael says, still unsure as to why Ryan sold it with no place to go, “You train in Gainesville its-”

“Not anymore.” Ryan says bitterly. 

“Don’t cry Ry.” Michael says and his voice is softer. 

Michael can’t bring himself to reach across the couch to comfort him or say that things will be okay. He doesn’t know how he’s somehow become responsible for a sad, impossibly silent Ryan. 

Michael is saved by pizza. He leaves Ryan in the living room and comes back with two boxes that he drops down on the coffee table. Ryan gets himself back together and Michael drops the subject of why he’s on his couch. 

 

**December 24th 2012,  
Baltimore**

Michael is used to waking up to a quite house and Herman snoring. Used to waking up with the television still on ESPN or the Discovery channel. Used to waking up watching English league soccer matches or a rerun of Myth Busters. 

Instead he wakes up to Ryan’s voice in his kitchen. 

“I know.” He tells Herman who’s still sleeping curled over his feet, “It’s weird.” 

Herman yawns at him before burrowing his head further into the covers. 

“No.” Michael nudges the dog, “We gotta get up.” 

He still keeps his phone by his pillow even though he no longer needs his five am alarm. He flicks it on to see the time and sees he has three missed calls from his mother. He sits up in bed, yawns and calls her back. 

“Michael.” She answers on the first ring, “Good morning.” 

“Morning.” Michael answers back, straining to listen to Ryan in the kitchen. 

“Is Ryan there?” She asks, not pronouncing his name with as much warmth as she used to. 

“Yeah.” Michael admits, slightly terrified of how she’d found out “He showed up last night. He’s staying in the guest-” 

Michael stops himself embarrassed that he’d just told his mom Ryan and him weren’t sleeping together. 

“His brother called me.” She informs him.

“Of course Devon called you.” Michael rolls his eyes, cursing Devon under his breath. Always fucking Devon. 

“He was worried-”

“I know.” Michael interrupts her, “It’s why Ryan’s here.” 

“You can bring Ryan for Christmas morning.” She offers, “It’s-” 

“Mom.” Michael groans, “I don’t want to- We’re not.” 

“You’re going to leave him alone?” Debbie asks him sounding unimpressed, “Where’s he going to go Michael?” 

“It’s not my problem.” Michael brushes it off, “He showed up here I didn’t tell him to come. We’re not-” He stops himself again. 

“He can’t spend Christmas alone.” 

“Then he can go home.” 

“Michael.” 

“No Mom.” Michael is short.

“He’s invited to Christmas.” His mother is short right back, “If he’s still with you. Bring him. As a friend.” 

“Fine.” Michael says to end the conversation before it gets any further, “I’ll talk to you later.” 

He’s fuming when he hangs up and it takes a great deal of self control to not call Devon to yell at him or to walk outside his bedroom to tell Ryan to go the fuck home and get out of his life. A few weeks of Xbox hadn’t been an invitation to come back. His anger however doesn’t last as long as he wants it too. He’s not as angry with Ryan as he once had been. As much as he doesn’t want to, he’s concerned and worried. He imagines that what Ryan’s admitted is just the tip of everything that’s wrong in his life. 

Michael doesn’t usually wear pants around his own house and he’s not particularly used to wearing pants around Ryan either but once he hangs up, he scrambles for a pair of shorts before leaving his bedroom. 

In Michael’s kitchen, Ryan leans against the counter with Carter and Stella sitting by his feet. He holds his phone to his ear with his shoulder and plays with an elastic band while he talks. 

“I’m okay mom.” Ryan reassures, “I’m sorry… I didn’t wanna scare you” He pulls on the elastic too hard and it goes flying across the kitchen. “Yeah DC freaked but I talked to him… He has all my gifts so you guys just… I’ll be back I just had some… ” Ryan drags one of his hands over his face. “I’m in Baltimore… Yeah Mike’s… No we’re not… Mom stop.” Ryan pleads. 

Michael stands by the pantry and watches Ryan move around his kitchen with total ease. Ryan is wearing a different hoodie and a pair of his sweat pants. Ryan pulls out plates and cups opening all the right cabinets on his first try. There’s a cardboard tray with two coffees on the counter.

“I didn’t wanna worry anyone mom.” Ryan explains, “I couldn’t… I know Mom… Devon knows… I got him… I tried to pay for… I’ll be back for… He’s with me. Mom stop.” Ryan groans. 

Ryan doesn’t talk for a few minutes and Michael assumes he’s getting an earful. Michael can’t imagine what it’s like for Ryan’s family to have Ryan away from home for Christmas. 

“I’m sorry mom.” Ryan repeats, “I’m really okay. I love you. Merry Christmas.”

After he hangs up, Ryan spins his phone around on the counter for a few seconds and Michael realizes that he’d been listening in on a private conversation. 

“Hi.” Michael says carefully. 

“I walked the dogs.” Ryan blurts out, “Except Herman because he was with you but like Carter fucking loves snow man… He was jumping everywhere… Starbucks was open but it’s cold as balls outside so I’ll heat it up… Want breakfast?” 

“You cook now?” Michael walks around the kitchen island and reaches for the coffee. Both cups have Ryan’s name on them but one has vanilla syrup and the other one has milk and Michael knows the milk one is his. He grabs it and sits down on one of the stools. Carter nudges his thigh with his nose and Michael pets his head. 

“I remembered our bagel place.” Ryan hands him a coffee mug, the one Michael always drinks out of, “Two streets down, they were out of cheese ones but I got sesame. Maybe they stopped making the cheese ones.” 

“They only make them on weekends.” Michael points out, shaking off the our Ryan had chosen to use. “I have some frozen.” 

Michael doesn’t mention that the cheese bagels have been frozen since their house-hunting weekend because after Ryan had gone back and after everything had happened Michael hadn’t been able to look at them or eat them. He hasn’t been back to the bagel place since. 

“I got these.” Ryan points to the bag, “Want one?” 

“You cook?” Michael repeats. He pours the coffee out of the paper cup and into his mug before putting it into the microwave. Ryan is a foot away from him and it feels surreal to be standing this close to him in his kitchen again.

“I can figure out your toaster maybe.” Ryan takes two bagels out of the bag, “Unless there’s like a ton of buttons then no.” 

“There’s my toaster.” Michael points to the silver appliance forgotten in the corner by the fridge, “Go at it.” 

“Just one button.” Ryan smiles, “Easy.” 

Ryan pulls the toaster forward and drops the already halved bagels in the toaster. He turns back around to take his cup of coffee. He takes a sip.

“You said it was cold.” Michael points out.

“Not bad. Like… if it’s super hot I burn my mouth.” 

“Here.” Michael walks to the still open cupboard. He reaches for another coffee mug, takes the first one and hands it to Ryan.

“Dude.” Ryan grimaces at the Michigan logo, “I’m not drinking out of that.” 

Michael rolls his eyes before putting he mug back in the cupboard. He moves cups aside until he spots the right shade of orange all the way at the back. He takes it out of the cupboard and offers it to Ryan with the tip of his fingers. 

“You still got my Gator’s mug?” Ryan grabs it, running his fingers over the embossed logo. “Thanks.” 

The microwave beeps and Michael opens the door instead of answering. It’s alarming to see how easily Ryan can slip back into his life. Ryan still has clothes here and his cup is still there. His favourite bagels are still in the freezer. Michael’s house alone stands as a monument of what they used to be, like nothing has ever happened and Ryan has just come home from a long trip. 

“I have all your stuff too.” Ryan tells him, “I had them pack it.” 

Michael puts his coffee mug on the counter and reaches for Ryan’s Starbucks cup. 

“I just haven’t been home that much.” Michael explains, he keeps his eyes focused on the coffee draining into the oversized Gators ceramic mug “Like I didn’t keep it all to-”

“Yeah.” Ryan stops him. His tone is casual but his face looks sad, “I get it.” 

Ryan pops both bagels up, flips them around and pushes them back down. He holds his fingers over the slots to feel the heat.

“It’s not that cold.” Michael laughs at him. 

“Yeah dude.” Ryan disagrees, “My face froze.”

Michael reaches out to touch Ryan’s cheek and he remembers too late that Ryan and him don’t touch anymore. The back of his fingers press against Ryan’s face anyways to feel how cold his skin is. Ryan turns his face towards the touch. 

It’s then Michael notices how much more closely they’re standing to one another. The small distance that had been separating them before is gone, Michael’s arm is resting against Ryan’s chest and Ryan’s lips are almost touching the inside of his wrist. 

“You’re the one who drove here.” Michael points out. 

Michael drops his hand from Ryan’s face and takes a step back to safety. He moves to get plates and knives trying to shake off how good it had felt. 

Ryan manages to not set off the fire alarm and he brings the bagels and the plates to the kitchen island, juggling both of them, a jar of peanut butter and his coffee mug. He stands across from Michael looking at him expectantly waiting for him to take a bite of breakfast. 

“S’Good.” Michael says through a mouthful of bagel, like Ryan had made the entire meal from scratch instead of just toasting pre-sliced bread products. 

“Tomorrow you make breakfast dude.” Ryan says chewing through his bagel. “I’ll still walk the dogs.” He offers.

“My mom makes French toast Christmas morning. We’ll eat there.” Michael grumbles. 

“Fuck. Christmas.” Ryan exclaims, “I forgot like… I’m not gonna like crash your fam’s Christmas. I’ll just pack up Carter and go-” 

“No.” Michael groans, “Your dumb brother called my mom. He thinks you’ve like lost it.” 

“Still your mom.” Ryan looks horrified, “Bowman’s going to be there-” 

“Yeah.” Michael nods, “They kiss.” 

“Don’t like I don’t mean.” Ryan backtracks, “I love your mom dude but she don’t want me there.”

“I fucked up too.” Michael says simply, “She’s not happy with me either.” 

Michael doesn’t elaborate because he figures it’s not Ryan’s problem. His mom has generally been unimpressed by his post London choices. She’d been even less impressed when he’d interrupted her “poor Michael; bad Ryan speech” to announce that he’d fucked up too. That he wasn’t the victim. That he’d cheated on Ryan as much as he’d cheated on him. That in the end Ryan had had the guts to end something that wasn’t going anywhere. 

“I don’t deserve it.” Ryan states, tracing the Gator’s logo with one finger. “Like I should just-” 

Michael’s slightly afraid of how Ryan would end that sentence so he doesn’t give him the chance. 

“She’s going to be mad if I don’t bring you.” He says to kind of settle the matter in a way in which neither of them has to take responsibility for the final decision, “You’re coming.” 

“What d’we say?” Ryan points between the two of them, “Like we’re…” 

“I don’t know.” Michael answers honestly. “You’re just spending Christmas here.” 

*

They both have last minute Christmas shopping to do. 

Ryan keeps his distance while they’re in public. He holds his bags in the hand that’s closest to Michael and it brings back memory of being together and not being able to let anyone know. 

Despite every cell in his brain yelling at him that it’s a bad idea Michael finds himself leaning against Ryan, stepping closer to him to point things out. When Ryan brushes against him Michael doesn’t move away. A few times, Michael leans into the touch; he lets himself settle back into a time when he’d been comfortable having Ryan invade his personal space. 

This time it feels okay. 

*

The number of presents on Michael’s dining room table has doubled now that Ryan’s added his own pile. The wrapping paper, the scissors and the new still sealed four pack of scotch tape are still strewn about uselessly next to the shopping bags. 

“We got like… All night.” Ryan rationalizes, “It’s snowing, let’s go out.” 

Despite growing up in New York, snowstorms are still novel to Ryan. Much like the daily apocalyptic thunderstorms in Florida always got Michael staring out of the window. Ryan would wave his hand, dismissing the storm as heat lightening over the everglades but watching 30 bolts of lightning strike down in just as many seconds was mind blowing. 

It’s already dark out despite it being early evening and as they’re clipping the dogs to leashes Michael finds himself digging around for an extra scarf so Ryan’s face doesn’t freeze again. He feels some weird sense of responsibility towards Ryan who’d chosen his house as the safest place to run to. 

Michael knows he shouldn’t. As the months since their breakup had gone by the Ryan shaped hole in his life had become smaller and smaller. In less than a day, Ryan has somehow managed to squeeze his presence back into the tiny space Michael hadn’t realized was still there. Ryan just fit. 

They walk with collars turned up against the wind and their phones in their pockets because it’s too cold out to text with bare hands. Stella takes the lead and Carter jumps excitedly behind her. Herman, unimpressed by the behaviors of his new companion falls back to walk beside Michael. Twice Michael has to untangle his leg from Herman’s leash. 

They make it to a nondescript spot on the road before Ryan suggests turning back. His teeth are chattering. 

“It’s not even that cold.” Michael laughs at him, “Pussy.” 

“S’warm in Florida.” Ryan says, “I forgot.” 

“You’ll get warm.” Michael says before bumping his shoulder against Ryan’s and trying not to stumble over Herman who’s stopped walking in protest of the weather. 

“It ain’t just me.” Ryan says. 

Michael quickly runs out of leash and has to walk back five feet to brush snow from in between Herman’s paw pads. When he’s finished warming up his dog he falls quietly back in step with Ryan. 

They turn back towards Michael’s street and Ryan laces his frozen fingers through Michael’s and waits for him to move his hand away. When Michael doesn’t, Ryan relaxes against him contently. They hold hands while they walk down the rest of the street. They stop to laugh when Carter hits ice and skids forward to crash into Stella. 

“He’ll pick it up.” Ryan says. He laughs again before raising Michael’s hand to his lips and kissing it. 

The kiss doesn’t surprise Michael as much as Ryan’s words. It’s the first time Ryan’s hinted at staying. Even in the serious conversations about moving in together before things had gone bad Ryan had never given any hints that he was willing to settle down in Baltimore. 

“Sorry.” Ryan apologizes, feeling Michael seize up. He lets Michael’s hand go seconds after it touches his lips, and puts his own hand back in his pocket. “I just- Like I’m used to it so-” 

“Yeah it’s weird.” Michael agrees because he doesn’t know how to handle this either. 

Ryan doesn’t reach for Michael’s hand again and they walk back to the house side by side, solidly occupying their own space. 

“I’m sorry.” Ryan apologizes again as Michael’s digging through his coat pocket for his keys. “I just like-” 

“Just not used to it.” Michael brushes off Ryan’s apology, he can’t figure out where he stands or how he feels about going down this road with Ryan again. He unlocks the door and lets go of the leashes letting both his dogs run inside. “We’re like-” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees before Michael is done talking. He stops to brush snow off Carter’s back and holds the door for Michael to go in, “We’re… Yeah.” 

*

It’s like playing with fire and things just get more dangerous. With the dogs fed and the pile of unwrapped presents still looming in the background they settle down to watch television. This time they sit closer to the middle of the couch. Ryan props his foot up and his knee hangs closely to Michael’s thigh. 

They’ve never spent Christmas together, always ending up with their own families in different states. They have no traditions to fall back on and no memories to revisit. Michael flicks through channels again until Ryan hits his shoulder and points at the channel listing. 

“Home Alone.” He exclaims enthusiastically, “We always watch it.” 

Michael can imagine all of Ryan’s family sprawled out over the various couches in his mother’s living room with baby nephews being passed around and dogs and Iguanas moving about searching for a comfortable spot. 

Instead, Ryan is with him in Baltimore. 

“Our kids would do that.” Ryan says forty-five minutes later while he watches Kevin McCalister go down the staircase in his toboggan. “They’d be like menaces.” 

They’ve both had a few beers. Michael sits with his arm across the back of the couch. Ryan has sunk down in the cushion and leans towards him. Neither of them moves away from each other. 

“If they’re like you we’d be fucked.” Michael answers. He plays along with the conversation. “We’ll have to learn to give stitches.” 

“Just superglue.” Ryan says. He lets his knee drop until it’s touching Michael. “Dev an I did it all the time so our dad wouldn’t like know.” He pushes his sweatpants up to show a jagged raised scar on the side of his leg as an example. 

“How’s he doing?” Michael asks forgetting that ryan hadn’t told him anything about his father. He leans further into Ryan, drops his arm down an inch off the back of the sofa. “Dev told me when he called that like-” 

He doesn’t expect Ryan to answer and he doubts it’s a good conversation starter but for the past few weeks Michael’s told Ryan all his problems and Ryan hasn’t shared any. 

“You don’t have to say-” Michael gives Ryan and out, “We got stuff to wrap.”

“They got it late.” Ryan starts to talk slowly, searching for the words he’d heard over the past few weeks, “And it spread… so they’re doing chemo and everything but like it’s- It’s not like good. They can’t go get it.”

“I’m sorry.” Michael means it. He hadn’t known why Ryan had called him on Thanksgiving and now he can imagine what it had been like for him in Daytona since. 

“I’m an asshole for being here.” Ryan admits, “Like I left everyone there an I should-”

He stops talking and rubs his face, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes. Michael doesn’t move to comfort him, doesn’t want Ryan to think he’s there because of pity. 

“It could be like um… His last.” Ryan says quiet, “’An I’m like here ‘stead.” 

“You can go back.” Michael suggests. “Like we can-” 

The we comes out before Michael can stop it and he decides not to take it back. 

“No.” Ryan shakes his head, “I wanna be here.”

Michael can’t be mean after this. He can’t bring himself to keep building up walls when it’s clear that Ryan had shown up with all of his down. Listening to Ryan talk about disappointing his family Michael knows that Ryan hadn’t come to Baltimore to hurt him. 

Ryan doesn’t offer any more information on his father or on the rest of his life and Michael stops prodding. Instead they watch Macaulay Culkin defend his home from robbers and be reunited with his family. 

Once the movie is over, all the gifts hastily wrapped, three of the scotch tape rolls lost, and all the dogs sleeping Michael has to stop himself from following Ryan into the guest room or inviting Ryan into his room. He can tell by the way Ryan hangs in the doorway to the guest bedroom that he’s struggling with the same idea. 

“Happy Christmas.” Ryan finally says, breaking their awkward silent hallway goodnight. “Thanks for like-” 

“Don’t worry.” Michael catches Herman by the collar before he slips into Ryan’s room, “Happy Christmas.” 

*

Ryan closes his door and sits on his bed, fully clothed. He thinks that maybe being in Baltimore hurts more than being in Florida. That at least in Florida he didn’t have Michael because of geography and states and hours of driving. Here he doesn’t have Michael because of his dumb decisions, a hallway and two bedroom doors. 

“I fucked up.” He tells Carter before pulling his shirt over his head, “Like we shouldn’t be here. Why d’you let me do this?” 

He changes into sweat pants and a long sleeved black shirt because it’s way too cold to sleep in just his underwear. Carter follows him into the bathroom and watches Ryan brush his teeth and wash his face. 

“We can’t even leave now.” Ryan says wiping his face with a towel he’s sure Michael’s mom picked out, “We gotta stay and have Christmas here.” 

Carter tilts his head to the side like he’s actively listening to Ryan. 

“I really want this dude fuck.” Ryan gets under the covers and pats the spot beside him waiting for Carter to jump, “If this blows up in my face I don’t know.” 

He tries to fall asleep but only tosses around. Fed up, he grabs his phone and dials for Devon. 

“If you’re gonna tell me you’re at a truck stop again.” Devon warns before he says hello, “I quit dude. It’s hard as fuck to keep you alive.” 

“Happy Christmas too.” Ryan rolls his eyes, “Thanks for like-”

“Making sure you weren’t stuck sleeping in your car in winter, yeah you’re welcome doofus.” 

“You called his mom?” 

“You told me you were gonna be half an hour after me an you call me ten hours later from fucking Virginia.” 

“Who else d’you call?” 

“Don’t make me feel bad Ry it’s not gonna work.” Devon tells him, “You scared the crap outta me and outta everyone. Mom was like…” 

“I know.” Ryan groans, “I told her I was sorry.” 

“You’re still with him?” Devon says hopeful.

“Don’t sound so happy.” Ryan warns, “Nothing’s gone down.” 

“D’you apologize?” 

“Yeah.” 

“He know you miss him?” 

“DC stop.” 

“You’re there Ry. After tomorrow what’s your excuse to be there? What’s-” 

“I didn’t go there to be with him dude I didn’t know where to-”

“You were two hours from mom’s Ry. I told you to drive with me you wouldn’t. Don’t feed me bullshit stories about not knowing where you-”

“I just drove dude I-”

“Magically made it to Baltimore when your brain fucking stopped working don’t even pretend it’s-”

“You don’t gotta fix my life DC.” Ryan says, “I fucked up so I fix it.”

“Then fucking do it.” Devon pleads, “Please do something because I’ve tried everything dude like I’m out.” 

“It’s not your life.” Ryan reminds him, “It’s not your-”

“It is Ry.” Devon cuts him short, “Cause you’re not doing good dude like I know… You an him? That’s what you gotta do.” 

“I don’t think I can get it.” Ryan admits, “I-”

“I don’t think you gotta choice Ry. Where you gonna go after this? What d’you plan?” 

“Nothing.” It’s the first time Ryan says it out loud, “I got nothing.”

“You got us.” Devon reminds him, “But you an Mike? You guys need it back. He misses you too.” 

“Don’t.” 

“He does.” Devon insists, “You think he talks to me that much cause we were friends before? He misses you.” 

Ryan sighs. 

“It’s gotta work out.” Devon says, “That’s all I got.” 

“I’ll fix our life when I go back home. Get another house. It’ll be better.” 

“Nah.” Devon shakes his head, “You’re not gonna move back.” 

Ryan doesn’t want to make that decision now. He knows the truth to what he’s going to do next is one hallway and two bedroom doors away from where he is. 

“How pissed is Kristin?” Ryan asks even though he’s afraid of the answer. 

“She’s pissed dude.” Devon hesitates, “I think you’re fired.” 

Ryan isn’t devastated by the news. 

“Have a good Christmas.” Ryan answers instead. “Go see Dad.”

“You too.” Devon answers. “Call Dad. Tell him where you-”

“Not yet.” Ryan refuses. 

“Where do I say you are?” Devon challenges, “He keeps askin’… He was worried about you too.” Devon reveals, “Dude he cares.” 

“I’ll call.” Ryan concedes, “D’you watch Home Alone?” 

“Yeah. Mom won the cookie contest.” Devon informs him, “We miss you.” 

“Me too.” Ryan admits and he realizes how homesick he is for a place that hadn’t felt like home. “Tell Kristin I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t call her.” Devon warns. 

They babble on for ten more minutes about nothing until Ryan yawns more than he talks. Devon hangs up first and Ryan sets the alarm on his phone before putting it under his pillow. 

“Happy Christmas.” He tells Carter nudging him to get more room in the bed. 

Carter licks his face in response before resting his head against Ryan’s back. 

*

Across the hall, Michael sits up in bed and flips through channels to try and drown out the urge to walk across the hallway and go join Ryan. He tries to forget how warm Ryan is and how bad he still wants him. He finally lets himself imagine how it would feel to have Ryan press up against him again. 

“Stop.” He tells himself, “Fucking stop.” 

He doesn’t want to feel this way about Ryan just yet. He wants the part of himself that had said no months ago in London to come back. Even in London though the anti Ryan part of his brain had been leading a minority government. 

Michael tries to remember how bad it had hurt to fly back home knowing Ryan was cheating and lying about it. He tries to force himself to remember how bad it had hurt to go house hunting with Ryan two days after he’d spent the night sleeping with a girl. How he’d tried to get the smell of her perfume out of his car so Ryan wouldn’t know. How shitty it had felt to accuse Ryan of fucking everything up when he’d had a hand in it to. How devastating that night in London had been, how punching Ryan’s face had felt. 

Michael refuses to beg Ryan to stay.

Michael hasn’t had a goal sheet since London but at one a.m. on Christmas morning, to keep himself from walking across a hallway and two doors, he reaches for a scrap piece of paper and a pen. He starts writing to keep his mind off of how much he wants Ryan in bed beside him. 

 

****  
December 25th 2012  
Baltimore 

Christmas breakfast at his mom’s is at ten and Michael wakes up at nine. 

He doesn’t bother to put a shirt on before walking out of his room, he knocks on Ryan’s door as he walks past to wake him up. 

“I’m up.” Ryan calls out, “Come in.” 

Michael opens the door and Herman greets him instead of Ryan. 

“He’s like a magician.” Ryan says herding Herman out of his bedroom, “My door was closed. Cried ‘till I picked him up. He snores.” 

“We have to be at my mom’s by ten.” Michael explains. 

“I’ll make coffee before I shower.” Ryan offers, “You go. I’ll bring you a cup.” 

It’s a surprise to Michael that Ryan knows how to operate a coffee maker but when he gets out of the shower, drying his hair with a towel, the Michigan mug is waiting for him on the never used desk in his bedroom. 

Their second morning together is less awkward and both of them are more relaxed around each other. Ryan walks around the kitchen in just a towel and Michael has to fight the urge to pin him against the counter and make them both late for breakfast. He shakes his head to refocus his thoughts on something else but he lets himself run a hand down Ryan’s back when he stops to refill his coffee mug. 

Surprised by the touch, Ryan turns around and for a second their faces are inches apart and their hips and legs touching. 

“Shit.” Michael mutters under his breath. He hadn’t been prepared to want Ryan this much. Touching him had been dangerous. 

“Can I like?” Ryan moves a hand up Michael’s chest to curl over his shoulder. His palm is warm from his coffee cup. “Was hard to not go to your room last night.” Ryan admits when Michael doesn’t move away. 

He’s the Ryan Michael missed self-assured and forward. The Ryan Michael used to pick up from the airport that would have his hand down Michael’s pants as soon as they were on the road home. 

“Same.” Michael agrees because it feels safe now that Ryan’s said it first. 

Michael has to physically stop himself from reaching for the knot in Ryan’s towel. He grabs the edge of the counter on either side of Ryan instead, not touching him but keeping him close. 

“I didn’t show up here for this-” Ryan says trying to reassure that a hook up hadn’t been on his mind, “I didn’t know-” 

“D’you have nowhere else to go?” Michael asks because he needs to know that Baltimore hadn’t just been a desperate last minute decision to find somewhere to spend Christmas. 

“I coulda gone to my moms I’ve never not had Christmas with my family…” Ryan straightens up and he’s even closer. “Cullen… Kyle…” He lists off the same people Michael had listed off to Devon. “I didn’t think I’d be like…” Ryan struggles to explain. 

Ryan’s skin breaks out in goose bumps and Michael lifts one of his hands from the counter and rubs it against Ryan’s arm. 

“Where you going after?” Michael asks the question that’s been haunting his thoughts. 

“You.” Ryan answers like it makes sense. 

“What?” Michael keeps dragging his palm over Ryan’s skin, feeling it warm up under his touch. He runs it down Ryan’s chest and across his abs. He knows he’s crossed an invisible line. 

“I want you.” Ryan confesses, “I don’t care where I gotta go for it.” His voice is lower now that Michael’s running his hand lower over his abs. He slacks back against the counter, pushing his hips out against Michael’s touch. 

“I came out to my mom.” Ryan offers as proof. 

“For him?” Michael says and he’s instantly disgusted. 

Michael drops his hands from Ryan and knows that he’s safe, that the minority Against Ryan government is still clinging to power. That it hadn’t been converted by tanned skin and knotted towels. 

“No.” Ryan lets go of Michael to hold both his hands up in defense, “After. ‘Bout you.” 

“Your dad?” Michael knows this is the risky one. Ryan had never been afraid of coming out to his mother, he’d always been afraid of her telling his dad. 

Ryan shakes his head. He puts his hands back on Michael resting them against his sides. 

“If we go back-” Michael offers not letting the Anti Ryan part of his brain have a say in his words. “Together.”

“I tell him.” Ryan nods. “I can deal with him hating me if I got you.”

“Fuck.” Michael exclaims. He reaches back for Ryan, keeping his hands far from the towel, tracing his fingertips from freckle to freckle. 

It’s nine forty-five and they have to be at Debbie’s for ten. 

“We gotta figure it out.” Michael says, pulling his hands off Ryan and taking a step back. It’s one of the goals on the list he’d made that morning. “But we have to go to Christmas first.” 

Ryan offers to drive but Michael refuses his offer on the grounds that he wants to get to his mother’s house alive. 

“I didn’t have snow tires.” Ryan explains, “It’s different.” 

“I drive.” Michael insists hoping that having something to do will keep his mind off the fact that he’s bringing Ryan home for Christmas for the first time. 

“You’re sure your mom’s cool with me going?” Ryan drops his hand on Michael’s thigh as Michael drives. He rubs it unconsciously. 

“Yeah.” Michael tries to sound confident, “Just like maybe we don’t…” He gestures to Ryan’s hand on his leg. 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan’s eyes go wide and he rests his hand back by his own seat, “Sorry I just- If you don’t want me to touch you like.”

“I don’t think my mom will get it.” Michael admits, “Like I don’t think they’re gonna-”

“Gonna what?” Ryan asks skeptically, “Dude like I can go. I dunno what Devon thinks I’m gonna do if I’m by myself but he worries too much.” 

“We’re working it out.” Michael says, “I just don’t wanna like… We haven’t” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “We haven’t.” 

“So we shouldn’t.” 

“Got it.” 

“You can touch me.” Michael gives permission, “It’s good.” 

Ryan smiles and visibly relaxes. He drops his hand back on Michael’s thigh and keeps it there for the rest of the drive. 

“I missed you.” He tells Michael as they park on the side of the road close to Debbie’s house. 

“Me too.” Michael lets himself agree. 

“I’m scared of your mom.” Ryan adds. 

“What you should be scared of.” Michael turns off the car and undoes his seat belt, “Is seeing Bob and her –" He can’t even finish his own thought, “I’m scarred.” 

Ryan doesn’t laugh. Instead he looks pained out of the car window at the house and Michael sees worry lines etch themselves on his forehead. 

“It’ll be okay.” He reassures, “We gotta go in though, we’re twenty minutes late.” 

“D’you get extra laps for that?” Ryan snaps out of his trance and jokes, “Does Bowman like ground you by-” 

“I don’t know.” Michael squeezes the hand Ryan still has on his thigh for a second before opening his car door and letting freezing cold air inside. “I’m retired.” 

*

As soon as they walk into Debbie’s house, both Michael and Ryan quickly get caught up in the whirlwind of Christmas morning. Presents go under the tree, coffee gets poured and hugs are exchanged. 

“You can finish setting the table.” Debbie tells Michael, handing him a can of whipped cream “Ryan can help you.” 

“Connor can do that.” Michael complains. “How’s that my job?” 

“We decided while you weren’t here.” Whitney calls out from the living room, “Because you were late.” 

She raises an eyebrow at him and Michael rolls his eyes before turning around and heading to the kitchen. 

“We’re still missing napkins.” Debbie notes walking into the kitchen, “Quick so we can eat.” 

“We’re twenty minutes late!” Michael calls back out, “How’s it still-” 

“Napkins Michael.” She says before checking the oven and releasing the smell of cinnamon throughout the kitchen. 

“They’re up top.” Ryan points to a pack of snowman printed napkins on top of the refrigerator. He leans back against the counter and takes a sip of his coffee. 

“Watch out.” Michael puts a hand on Ryan’s hip to keep him out of his way while he reaches for the napkins. 

He touches Ryan without thinking about it. His palm rests on Ryan’s hip and his fingers curl around to touch his side. Instead of getting out of the way, Ryan wraps an arm around Michael’s waist and pulls him in closer.

“Ry.” Michael drops the napkins on the counter behind Ryan’s back. 

“Thanks.” Ryan says seriously.

Michael can’t think of anything to reply. He suddenly wishes they weren’t in his mom’s kitchen and back in his own house where Ryan had only been in a towel. He rubs steady circles against Ryan’s hipbone with his thumb.

“Yeah.” Michael finally answers. 

It’s ridiculous to expect privacy in a house full of people and they get ten more seconds of it before Debbie walks back in. She’s silent for a second. 

“Go sit down.” She motions them out of the kitchen, “I’ll bring in breakfast.” 

The rest of the day goes by smoothly. After breakfast and presents, once they’ve shot off nerf guns, started to look at the instructions for Connor’s new lego set and relaxed back with more peppermint liquor spiked coffee it’s late afternoon. 

Snow’s been steadily falling since morning. It’s the first Christmas in years that Michael hasn’t had to go back to the pool and he relishes every moment. They flip between a Harry Potter movie marathon and a World Juniors hockey game. The Harry Potter marathon wins and they start to watch halfway through the third movie. 

Dinner comes and they eat scattered around the kitchen. Michael finds himself reaching for Ryan more often and he stops caring when Ryan reaches for him. 

Ryan excuses himself once after dinner to call his family. He’s quieter when he comes back and Michael figures that as much as Ryan has chosen to spend Christmas in Baltimore he misses his family. 

“D’you get to talk to your dad?” Michael asks quietly, moving sideways as best he can to give Ryan room on the couch. 

“He was sleeping.” Ryan explains, “I left a message. Everyone went to see him so-” 

He trails off and chooses to focus his attention on watching Harry save Sirius Black. 

“Did the weird horse bird make it?” Ryan asks. 

“Harry saves the hippogriff.” Michael’s niece confirms, “He goes back in time to do it. Hermione helps.”

The credits for the movies roll and both Michael’s sisters start gathering their things to leave. 

“Wanna head out too?” Michael asks, “The dogs are gonna be going crazy.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “Is it still snowing?” 

“Probably.” Michael gets up and stretches, he waits for Ryan to get up before walking to the window to check. “Gonna have to brush off the car. Hope the plow didn’t pass.” 

They can’t see the car from the living room window. They walk around to the front hall to look out. The plow hasn’t passed but the car is covered in of snow. 

“I’ll go brush.” Ryan offers. Instead of waiting for the keys, he reaches to grab them from Michael’s back pocket. 

“Thanks.” Michael answers and maybe because of the liquor he’s had in his coffee he grabs Ryan’s wrist to pull him in closer. He holds Ryan there for a second before he kisses him quickly on the lips.

“Two minutes.” Ryan whispers when they part. He leans in close again and kisses Michael back. 

The second kiss lasts longer, Ryan’s hand comes to rest behind Michael’s neck and Michael feels the cold metal of his key set against his skin. He lets his fingers slip under Ryan’s sweater to rest against his skin. Even though it’s the middle of the winter everything about Ryan is warm and Michael moves his palm to touch more of his side. 

They’ve crossed a line and Michael’s aware that in the last few minutes everything about the last year has changed. He’s sober enough to get that maybe there’s no going back. 

They hear Hilary clear her throat and Ryan moves away from the kiss. Michael keeps his hand under Ryan’s shirt to stop him from jumping back. They see her standing a few feet away. 

“Brushing the car off. Two minutes.” Ryan repeats. He gently moves Michael’s hand and grabs a pair of gloves before heading out into the cold. 

Michael is left alone with his sister who looks at him disapprovingly. 

“He’s…” Michael tries to find words to defend his actions. 

“A cheater?” Hilary prompts. 

“We both fucked up.” Michael explains, reaching up to curl his fingers behind his own neck brushing them against the skin Ryan had just been touching. 

“What you did is nothing to what he did.” She points out, “He had a relationship and lied about it Michael. He was living with someone else.”

“I know.” 

“I don’t think you do.” 

“It’s not…” He tries to explain even though he knows there’s no way to make her understand, “There’s ten years-”

“Which he didn’t have a problem throwing away for-”

“I know that.” Michael interrupts her, “I get it.” 

“You don’t get it Michael.” She slams her hand down on the side of the banister, “Because if you did you wouldn’t be here with him.” 

“We planned stuff-“

“A lot of people plan their lives and it doesn’t work out. There’s other people out there. People who haven’t cheated on you. People who give a shit.” 

“I want him.” Michael tells her and it’s the fist time he lets himself say it, “I choose Ryan.”

“He doesn’t…” Hillary sounds disgusted, “You deserve better.”

“No. What we planned before. That’s what I deserve.” Michael insists.

“And that’s what he didn’t want!” Hillary says exasperated, “All the plans you made, that’s what he didn’t want.”

“He didn’t know… Now it’s different.”

“Different until when Michael?” She pleads, “Next time he freaks out?” 

“It’s me an him.” Michael states, “Not you.” 

Hillary’s response is lost because Ryan comes in just as Whitney and her kids come to put on their boots. In the flurry of thank yous and goodbyes Michael doesn’t get another minute alone with her. He realizes though that his entire family sees him walking to his car with Ryan’s arm around him. 

*

Ryan drives home because he’s sober. 

Michael’s the one who reaches out to touch him. He kneads the back of Ryan’s neck until they hit a red light. Once Ryan is stopped, Michael leans over to kiss him. The light turns green but there’s no one else driving in a snowstorm on Christmas night. They pull away from each other once the light signal has cycled back to red. 

“You taste like candy canes.” Ryan laughs. He drums his fingers on the steering wheel and grins at the empty street in front of him. 

*

It isn’t exactly their first date. 

They’ve spent a few hundred evenings together since Athens. They’ve made out on Michael’s couch and in his kitchen before. It’s too easy to be back together and Michael doesn’t care to think about the three bullet points on his goal sheet. He’d rather keep holding Ryan close to him, their legs intertwined on the couch. 

“I didn’t come here to like-” Ryan starts again, his same speech from that morning.

He’s not even wearing pants. Sprawled across Michael in just his underwear he tries to get his point across. That he hadn’t come here with a plan, that getting back together hadn’t been his intention. 

“Why d’you come here?” Michael asks. 

“Just wanted to be home.” Ryan says quietly. 

There isn’t enough peppermint schnapps in his mom’s house to make Michael forget that it can’t be this easy. Ryan and him can’t just wake up tomorrow, pick up where they had been a year ago and carry on like nothing had happened. They haven’t figured out anything except for how to physically be together again. 

Ryan can’t just keep hiding out in Baltimore, eventually real life will break through. 

Michael shifts on the couch pushing his hips up against Ryan’s propping himself a little further up. Ryan is mostly naked and Michael can feel his skin break out in goose bumps. 

“In the cold?” Michael jokingly questions because he’s not ready to take any of it seriously. 

“No. You.” Ryan answers seriously.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes the first parts of Lonelier Places ever written. I've been trying to get this this point for so long and I really hope I did it justice. I know some people will always think that what Ryan did was unforgivable but I never hid where Drop The World was going. 
> 
> So here it is, your happy (almost) ending.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> clearly, this isn't real

**December 28th  
Baltimore **

Ryan doesn’t talk about going back to Florida and Michael just quietly goes along with their new living arrangement. 

Their Christmas night couch make out session is as far as they get with each other. They continue sleeping in different rooms and co-exist in an awkward pantomime of their former relationship. They go out for coffee and walk the dogs in the mornings. They order food, drink beer and play video games until they’re both half asleep. This time, they’re both more than self conscious about where they’re sitting and how close they are to each other. 

They haven’t talked about anything. Haven’t talked about being back together or why Ryan won’t go home. It takes Michael a day and a half before he remembers that Ryan doesn’t have a home to go back to. Ryan’s only option is to go back and live with his mom. The realization that he could be Ryan’s last ditch choice makes a bitter feeling Michael had been trying to ignore flare back up in full force. 

Michael has no idea how long this can go on. The way things are going he might end up living with Ryan Lochte for the rest of his life. Sleeping in separate bedrooms, not charging him rent and jerking off to the thought of him walking around the kitchen in just a towel. Not being in a real relationship but just quietly coexisting. 

The dogs have already been walked and their pasta delivered. The dining room table is still covered in wrapping paper and the kitchen counter is covered in take out containers from the past week. They eat dinner on the couch with the television screen paused on the Call of Duty menu. 

Ryan is too busy texting to play video games. He takes occasional forkful of pasta and laughs at his phone. He doesn’t pay attention to Michael.

Michael looks at his blank phone screen, checks his email and pretends to be equally busy. 

“Devon’s skied off the roof.” Ryan informs him laughing, turning his phone towards Michael’s face momentarily, “Nothing broken.” 

“Where d’he get skis?” Michael asks, only catching a fleeting glance at a blurry picture of Devon flailing in mid air before the screen on Ryan’s phone turns off. 

“Around.” Ryan shrugs. 

Ryan texts something back, chews another mouthful of lasagne and frowns. 

“What?” Michael asks because somehow watching Ryan text Devon has become more interesting than his own phone. 

“My dad.” Ryan drops his fork, “Just like… shit… I gotta.” 

“What?” Michael asks again, “Use words.” 

“Call dude.” Ryan groans, “I haven’t called I’m… like…” 

Ryan gets the same look on his face that he’d had his first night in Baltimore. He sinks further into the couch and chews on the side of his thumb, his other hand hovers over the phone that’s balancing on his knee. 

“We can go.” Michael offers before he thinks about what he’s saying. 

“Dude no.” Ryan shakes his head. “You don’t wanna-”

“Seriously.” Michael insists, even though he still isn’t sure flying to Florida with Ryan is something he wants to do. “We can fly down to-” 

“My car.” Ryan points to somewhere outside the living room window. 

“Be here when we come back.” Michael answers without thinking. 

“Yeah?” Ryan asks it’s hard to ignore the hope in his voice. 

“Um yeah.” Michael agrees. “You got plans to go somewhere?” 

Michael realizes that whatever is happening and no matter how vague and how awkward things might be that he doesn’t want Ryan to leave. Sleeping in separate bedrooms in the same house is a thousand times better than being in different states. Despite not having talked about anything and without knowing where this is going that he doesn’t want to lose Ryan. 

“I gotta be in New York day before New Years.” Ryan remembers. “Ralph Lauren stuff I have to pick up a suit for whatever I do New Years Eve.”

“Thirtieth?” Michael flicks his thumb across the screen of his phone to start looking at tickets, “I gotta be in Vegas for New Years. The jet can pick us up in New York.” 

“Am I coming with you to Vegas?” Ryan’s phone slides off his knee and Michael knows they’ll probably lose it in the couch cushion. 

“Yeah.” Michael nods, “If you want to.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods back, “We can party. I’ll have a suit.” 

“So we can go to Florida tomorrow.” Michael decides, “I’ll book the tickets.” 

Michael waits for Ryan to protest or to tell him that he doesn’t want to go home. Instead, Ryan drops down on the couch until his head is resting under Michael’s arm against his ribcage. 

“You don’t gotta do this.” Ryan says, twisting his head to look up at him, “Like you don’t gotta make sure I’m-” 

“It’s not what I’m doing.” Michael insists. “We’re back? Like together?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan answers. He drops his arm over Michael’s lap and stretches out his legs “S’why I’m here.” 

“Not ‘cause you’re homeless.” Michael jokes. 

“No.” Ryan dismisses the idea. “I’m not homeless.”

“You don’t have a house.” Michael reminds him. 

“I got money.” 

“You live with your mom.” 

“No.” Ryan disagrees, “I kinda live here.” 

It had taken them years to get to a point where they could even talk about moving in together. Between Olympics they’d toyed with the idea but had never been able to reconcile their training schedules to just one place. They’d always put it off and talked about it as something that would happen, after, later. It was one of their plans that they assumed would materialize at some imprecise point in time when things had magically sorted themselves out. A plan they’d never really put much effort into. 

Now Ryan has maybe moved in and Michael had somehow missed it. 

“Are we going to Florida?” Michael asks instead of lingering on their living arrangements. 

Ryan nods. 

“After New York, then Las Vegas.” Michael lists, like Ryan and him have been planning this trip forever. 

“Then back here.” Ryan finishes the itinerary for him. 

Ryan sits back up, picks his aluminum container off the coffee table and starts eating again. He fishes his phone from the folds of the couch, dusts off the screen on his pants and starts texting Devon again. 

“Dev’s gonna pick us up.” Ryan explains, “We’re gonna stay at my mom’s. If that’s cool.” 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees his mind is still stuck on Ryan listing off Baltimore as the final destination of their trip.

“She knows we’re like.” Ryan motions between the two of them, “I told her.”

“I know.” Michael reminds him, “Your dad’s the one-” 

“He’s sick.” Ryan answers, putting down his plate, “And I let him down I don’t wanna-” 

“No I get it.” Michael excuses, “Not the time.” 

“Like.” Ryan moves to sit cross-legged on the couch so he’s facing Michael, “When we found out was Thanksgiving.” 

“Devon told me.” Michael admits, “Before you got here.” 

Ryan chews on his nail again. He stops talking and observes Michael carefully. He frowns and Michael knows he’s thinking. 

“Do you just-” Ryan narrows his eyes and wrinkles crease his forehead, “Feel bad for me? Like-” 

“No Ryan.” Michael interrupts, “I mean yeah the first night but now we’re-” 

“I don’t need you to-” 

“I’m going to Florida.” Michael takes Ryan’s hand away from his mouth, “With you. We’re going to New York. We’re going to Las Vegas. I don’t-” 

“Okay” Ryan answers before Michael has a chance to get angrier. “You’re not.” 

“We gotta talk.” Michael groans, “About what we’re gonna do and-” 

“I know.” Ryan agrees, “Just like… Let me deal with my dad first.” 

It’s a fair request. 

It’s late when they get off the couch and head to bed. 

“Night.” Ryan says stopping at the door of the guest bedroom, “When we leaving?”

“At like eight.” Michael says before Ryan walks into the guest room. “Get to Florida-”

“-For lunch yeah.” Ryan finishes, “Leave again next morning?” 

“Yeah.” Michael confirms. 

“Anyways night.” Ryan gives him a small ridiculous wave before disappearing inside the guest bedroom. 

“Yeah.” Michael calls out, “Night.”

 

**December 29th,**  
Daytona Beach,  


Devon is waiting for them just outside the arrival gate. 

“See.” Michael points to Ryan when they get close enough so Devon can hear him, “Alive.” 

“He feed you?” Devon asks Ryan before he hugs him. 

“I’m good DC.” Ryan insists. “Thanks for coming.” 

Devon doesn’t ask where Ryan’s put his car or where Carter is. Devon doesn’t ask strange questions or ask for explanation. He waits with them for their bags and helps carry all of it out to the car. 

“Wanna go to Mom’s?” Devon asks as they get in the car, “Or see Dad?” 

“See Dad.” Ryan answers before looking back at Michael, “If that’s okay?” 

“Um yeah.” Michael agrees even though no part of him wants to visit Stephen, “I’ll like wait outside. No problem.” 

“Thanks.” Ryan reaches to the back seat to squeeze Michael’s knee. 

“He missed you dude.” Devon lets Ryan know and he has a hard time keeping all the anger out of his voice, “Mom was crying.”

“I said I was sorry.” Ryan defends himself, “I wasn’t-” 

“Yeah but it was a dumb move.” Devon reminds him, “Kristin’s still-”

“We’re here.” Michael speaks up for Ryan because he knows Ryan won’t speak up for himself, “Now.” 

“Yeah.” Devon answers back, “You are.” 

*

Michael hates hospitals. He pulls his hat lower over his face as they walk in trying hard to not get recognized. He slouches down and stares at his shoes and manages to walk straight into Devon. 

“Chill.” Devon rolls his eyes, “No one cares it’s you.” 

Michael doesn’t understand why Devon is so angry. He’d done everything Devon had requested and managed to bring Ryan back to Florida. Michael doesn’t get why Devon is acting like Ryan and him are the enemy. It makes Michael angry that Devon is making it obvious that he’s disappointed in Ryan. 

The elevator gets to the oncology floor and Michael wraps his arm around Ryan’s waist to walk out. He spots a cluster of chair just next to the bank of elevators. 

“I’m gonna stay here.” He tells Ryan, “That okay?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan nods, “You don’t gotta come, If you wanna like peace out it’s okay I’ll call and-” 

“No.” Michael reassures, “I’ll be here.” 

“Okay yeah.” Ryan nods again, looking unsure.

Ryan looks distressed and Michael worries that this was the wrong choice. 

“You don’t have to go.” He says, tightening his grip on Ryan’s waist, “We can like-” 

“No.” Devon stops him, “Come on Ry.” 

“It’ll be okay.” Ryan says unconvincingly, “There’s waiting rooms in there you-” 

“I’m good here.” Michael affirms, “Go.” 

Michael lets go of Ryan and watches him walk with Devon down the hallway. He sits in the chair that’s facing the wall and focuses on his phone. He regrets suggesting this part of the trip to Ryan.

*

Ryan can tell Devon is annoyed.

“You don’t gotta let the nurses know you’re there.” Devon explains as they walk through the ward doors, “But they like it if you say hi and stuff. You gotta wash your hands and if you’re sick you gotta wear a mask-” 

“I’m not sick.” Ryan says.

“You still gotta wash your hands.” Devon insists. 

“I’ve gone to see Dad before.” Ryan reminds Devon, “I know this stuff.” 

“I’m just like letting you know.” Devon snaps, “Sorry.” 

“Hey.” Ryan puts a hand on Devon’s shoulder, “What’s up?” 

“Nothing.” Devon shakes his head. 

“No.” Ryan stops his brother. “Tell me.” 

Devon struggles for a second before giving up. 

“You left.” Devon shrugs Ryan off, “You leave I gotta make sure you’re okay and Mom’s okay and B and Dad and I gotta work and-” 

“I’m sorry DC.” Ryan takes a step back. 

“You missed Christmas.” Devon snaps, “I missed you.”

“We talked.” Ryan keeps talking, “All the time. You never said.” 

“Forget it.” Devon brushes off, “It’s whatever.” 

“It’s not.” Ryan presses on, “You gotta go back to Gainesville to work I’ll stay dude. If you need-” 

“I don’t want money.” Devon snaps, “I can make money.” 

“I gotta like.” Ryan says quietly, “Work out my own stuff.” 

“I know.” Devon answers, “It just sucks, I’m used to you like being there.” 

“I’ll come back.” Ryan promises, “Take care of-” 

“No.” Devon shakes his head. “Don’t.” 

“I don’t know what you want.” Ryan admits, “You want me to stay with Mike, you want me home what d’you want dude I said I’d pay your rent. I said I’d make sure you’re good. You can’t say I’m not-” 

“You gotta go see Dad.” Devon dismisses Ryan’s promises. “We’re cool it’s okay.”

Ryan highly doubts that Devon and him are good and it kills him. 

“We’re good.” Devon swears. “I’m going out with Kyle tonight, wanna come?” 

“If Mike wants to yeah.” Ryan answers, “Sure.” 

Ryan waits for Devon to smile or relax or give a sign that things between them are okay but Devon just sighs and leans against the wall. 

“Go see Dad.” Devon points down the hallway, “He’s in the same room.” 

*

Ryan hadn’t expected to come home and have everyone forgive him. He also hadn’t expected to be met with so much anger. Devon’s anger is upsetting and he walks into his dad’s room with a heavy heart. He knows he’s frowning and he can’t bring himself to put on a happy face for his father. 

“Hey dad.” He says walking in without bothering to knock. 

His father has lost weight but otherwise looks normal and it’s a huge relief. 

“Ryan.” Steven greets him, “Sit.” 

For the first few minutes his dad seems happy to see him. They talk about training and Ryan makes up times for his sets and lies about practices. It’s calm and normal and a relief to be talking about normal things. 

“You’re gonna tell me where you spent Christmas?” Steven asks once they’ve exhausted all swimming related talk, “Everyone said you were busy but you would still have come.”

“Friends.” Ryan shrugs it off with another lie, “I just had to-” 

“Who was more important than your family Ryan?” 

Ryan closes his eyes because this is it. This is how his life goes and his father’s expectations of him. That he doesn’t get a break ever. That he always has to be the oldest boy and the responsible one and the one who keeps things together. That he has responsibilities to everyone other than himself. That he should always think about what he should be doing before he considers what he wants to do. 

“Mike.” Ryan blurts out, “Baltimore.” 

Ryan stays on the defensive, ready to put up walls to save himself from being insulted and yelled at and disowned. Ready for all the bad things he’d imagined would happen if he ever told his dad. Things that he’d been worried about since he’d been sixteen. Things he’d promised his kids would never worry about. That his kids would never go through life thinking that his love was conditional. 

His dad doesn’t say any of it. The only thing that follows Ryan’s words is silence. 

“Dad.” Ryan says ready to take back his words, ready to start the same speech he’d always reverted back to about them being just friends.

“I’m tired Ryan.” Steven answers without looking at him, “You can go.” 

“Ok yeah.” Ryan is quick to get up, “I’ll be back like-” 

Steven nods but doesn’t look at Ryan again. 

“Bye.” Ryan says before walking out of the room. 

Devon is waiting for him in the hallway. He’s slouched in a chair staring at his phone. 

“Lets go.” Ryan tells him, “I wanna go.” 

“Dude.” Devon sits up straight and shoves his phone in his pocket, “That was five minutes what happened?” 

“Where’s Mike?” Ryan starts walking down the hallway towards the elevators without waiting for Devon, “I want to go.” 

“I haven’t seen dad yet.” Devon complains, “Ry, wait up.” 

Ryan doesn’t wait. 

“Mike’s still out there.” Devon jogs down the hallway to catch up to Ryan and finally manages to grab onto his arm, “Dude stop.” 

“No.” Ryan tells Devon, “I’m going it’s not-”

“You spent five minutes in there.” Devon says and his voice is angry, “You don’t get to leave and-” 

“He said get out.” Ryan fights to keep his voice steady, “He don’t want me there.” 

“Ry- What?” Devon grips Ryan’s arm tighter, “Tell me what-” 

“You stay.” Ryan clears his throat, “I’ll go with Mike. We’ll see you at mom’s. Keep the car we’ll take a cab.” 

“What d’he say?” Devon insists, “Tell me it’s-” 

“Stop.” Ryan glances up and sees Michael walking towards them from the other end of the hallway, “I’m okay, I’ll see you at mom’s.” 

“Say what happened.” Devon pulls insistently on Ryan’s arm, “I’ll go and-”

“Stop.” Ryan pulls his arm away from Devon’s grip, “It’s good.” 

Michael stops right behind Ryan and rubs a hand up his back before resting it on Ryan’s shoulder. 

“We heading out?” Michael asks confused, he moves his hand to squeeze the back of Ryan’s neck. “Something wrong?” 

“My dad’s just tired.” Ryan shrugs, “Devon’s gonna stay.” 

“No.” Devon refuses, “I’ll go.” 

The doors of the elevator chime before opening and Devon gets in first. Ryan and Michael follow him. They’re crowded in with other people and Michael drops his hand from Ryan’s shoulder. 

Ryan wants to tell him not to stop. To keep touching him even where other people might see. Instead he moves a few inches sideways to be closer to Michael. 

Ryan stays silent as he drives. He doesn’t talk to Michael or Devon about what happened. He tries not to think about it. He doesn’t want to think that maybe he’d just made the final choice. Choosing being with Michael over having a relationship with his dad even before Michael and him had talked things all the way out. 

He feels stupid for letting his mom and Devon talk him into telling his dad the truth. Hates that he believed that his dad would react differently than he’d always predicted. 

“You going out with Kyle?” Devon asks after the seventh consecutive minute of silence. 

“Dunno.” Ryan speeds through a yellow light before turning to look at Michael, “Are we?” 

“If you want to.” Michael answers. 

“Yeah sure.” Ryan takes his hand off the wheel to reach for his phone, “I’ll text him.” 

Michael doesn’t have time to think that it’s their first time hanging out with anyone that isn’t family together since they’d broken up. Ryan’s group of friends don’t make a big deal about his presence but they don’t go out of their way to acknowledge his presence. Ryan is quiet throughout the evening. He’s slow to catch onto jokes and doesn’t laugh at things that would usually have him howling. Michael knows he probably hasn’t seen Kyle for half a year and yet Ryan barely talks to him. Ryan barely talks to anyone. 

Michael feels angry. He feels angry that over the past week Ryan had managed to transform from the sad and quiet person who’d driven across the country without anywhere to go to someone that resembled the Ryan he used to be. 

After eight hours with his family, Ryan’s slipped back into the state of mind Michael assumes had sparked his unplanned road trip to Baltimore. 

He corners Devon by the bar. 

“What happened?” 

“Hey you might have better luck.” Devon doesn’t pay attention, “Cuz if you’re not flashing your boobs you ain’t getting a drink so maybe-” 

“With your dad and Ryan.” Michael ignores everything Devon says, “What happened, he’s fucked.” 

“D’you really care?” Devon turns around to face him. 

“I’m here.” Michael points out, “Yeah.” 

It takes him a few seconds of staring at Devon to figure out that he’s drunk. 

“Come, let’s go back.” Michael says, “We got food.” 

“He told him to get out.” Devon reveals, “I dunno what else, he told him to get out so Ry did.” 

Michael leads Devon away from the bar and back to the booth their group is occupying. He pulls the pitchers of beer out of Devon’s reach and pushes a plate of nacho in front of him. 

Everyone else is playing pool a few feet away. 

“He was good when we were home.” Michael tells him, “You guys fucked him up.” 

Devon picks up a nacho and laughs. He chews and shakes his head at Michael. 

“You said home like he lives there.” Devon rolls his eyes, “You guys getting married?” 

“No.” Michael glances up quickly to make sure Ryan can’t hear them, “I just-” 

“You fuck him up worse.” Devon eats another nacho. “Don’t talk.” 

Michael tells himself that Devon is drunk and finishes his beer instead of answering something that could maybe start a fight. 

“You ever think like.” Devon ignores Michael ignoring him, “You should talk to him ‘bout this stuff an not to me? I don’t wanna date you. Figure your shit out with Ry.”

“Your dad fucks him up every time.” Michael snaps. 

“That ain’t my fault.” Devon complains, “He ran away you brought him back. S’your fault. He’s yours.” 

“Leaving.” Michael warns, “I’m getting Ry.” 

“Whatever don’t make out here.” Devon requests, “I don’t wanna get beat up.” 

Ryan is holding a pool cue but isn’t playing. He’s leaning against the bar waiting for Kyle to miss a shot. 

“Hey.” Michael leans beside him, careful to leave enough distance between them to not attract any unwanted attention, “Wanna go?” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees without hesitating, “I’m done.” 

“Devon’s drunk.” Michael points to the booth where Devon’s still sitting alone eating nachos. 

“Bring him with us.” Ryan looks at his brother concerned, “S’tough on him too.” 

Ryan says bye to his friends and waves off their protests that he’s leaving early and rolls his eyes when they make rude insinuations at what Michael and him would rather be doing instead of being at the bar. 

Michael wishes they were anywhere else but Florida. Anywhere other than a bar where a table full of other dudes are staring at them waiting for them to get too close to start a fight. It had happened once before in Gainesville and not touching each other in public had become one of their unwritten Florida rules. 

“Fuck off.” Ryan narrows his eyes at one of Kyle’s friend who mimics giving a blowjob. 

“Let’s just go.” Michael forgets their rules and grabs Ryan’s arm pulling him away before Ryan becomes the one to starts a fight. 

“I don’t know who that guy is.” Ryan says as they walk away. His jaw is still set and his hands balled into fists, “Fuck him.” 

“Whatever.” Michael dismisses him, “Go.” 

Devon is still sitting in the booth but his head is resting on the table next to the plate of food. 

“Bring the nachos Chunks.” Ryan claps his brother on the back, “Lets get your ass home.” 

Ryan waits for Devon to raise his head before he talks to him again. 

“I’ll get our tab.” Ryan tells Michael, throwing him the keys to Devon’s car.

“Come on dude.” Michael grabs the back of Devon’s shirt and tries to pull him out of the booth. 

“I can walk.” Devon protests. “Don’t.” 

“Yeah show him.” Ryan encourages, “Make sure he’s got his phone.” He tells Michael. 

True to his word, Devon walks to the car without help. Michael opens a door for him and reaches to buckle him up before closing the door and getting into the driver’s seat. 

“You okay?” He asks Devon. 

“Yup.” Devon rests his head against the window. 

“Let Ry pay your rent.” Michael decides to bring it up, “He’s worried.” 

“I dunno why he thinks I can’t do nothing.” Devon complains, “I got a job I’m good. I’m not the one who runs away and fucking gives up on-” 

“What d’your dad say to him?” 

“Why the fuck you care?” Devon slurs, “You been back for like five hours. You can’t say shit.” 

“What?” 

“Our Dad cares. He’s there.” Devon says. “More than you can say.”

“Fuck you.” Michael reacts at the unexpected blow below the belt. 

“No fuck you.” Devon tips his head back up to stare at Michael in the rear view mirror. “Dad tells him he sucks for letting everyone down. That he ain’t responsible. He makes him feel like shit.” Devon guesses, “You know that.”

“You’re-” 

“No dude you are.” Devon spits out, “Whatever dad said ain’t any different than you showing up and telling Ry what to do and where to go and like fucking holding him to show him where to walk. How’s this fucking different from before it ain’t. You’re doing the same shit. When you go it’s gonna be the same and it’s still gonna be just me.” 

“Fuck-” 

“No fuck you.” Devon repeats, “Fuck you.” 

“I let him stay because you said-” Michael defends himself. 

“I don’t wanna talk to you.” Devon cuts him off, “Stay the fuck away from Ryan. Go home.”  
Devon’s always been on their side and Michael feels betrayed. Before he can think of something to answer, Michael spots Ryan walking towards the car. He opens the passenger door and climbs in. He doesn’t do up his seat belt but slumps down in his seat and rests his hand on Michael’s leg. 

“Gross don’t make out.” Devon groans, “Take me home.” 

“You wanna walk?” Ryan turns around and hits Devon’s legs, “Be nice.” 

“This is my car.” Devon points out. “Can’t kick me out.” 

“I’m just gonna go.” Michael says, “He’s drunk.” 

Ryan doesn’t do up his seat belt, he keeps his hand on Michael’s leg, stroking his palm on the inside of Michael’s thigh. 

“What d’your dad say?” Michael asks quietly at a red light. 

Michael takes his hand off the steering wheel and rests it over Ryan’s. 

“It’s okay.” Ryan dismisses, “He was tired.” 

“Tell me.” Michael demands, “You’ve been like sad.” 

“Just sucks watching him be sick.” Ryan lies. “S’hard.” 

The light turns green and Michael tries to ignore the fact that he still knows Daytona Beach well enough to find Ryan’s mother’s house without help. He rests his arm across the back of Ryan’s seat. 

At the next red light they hit, Ryan leans over to kiss him. Michael takes both his arms and holds him close, running one through his hair. 

“We’re out of here tomorrow.” Ryan says when he pulls away, “It don’t matter.” 

Michael isn’t sure what Ryan means by it, if he means not ever coming back to Florida or not ever coming back to visit his father. Wanting to be away from his family is such an un-Ryan emotion that it feels foreign to hear the words come out of his mouth. 

Michael doesn’t want to care about the things Devon had said but he can’t help it. He can’t help but think that maybe things haven’t changed and that they can’t last. 

“You turn here.” Ryan points out “Look for the flag.” 

Michael parks the car on the side of the road close to the house because there’s no room in the driveway. He helps Ryan get Devon in the house, up the stairs and onto the air mattress in Brandon’s bedroom. 

“I’ll check on him later.” Ryan says when they walk out, “Hope we didn’t wake up my mom.” 

Michael isn’t sure where to go or where to sleep. His things are in Ryan’s room so he follows him there. 

“Um.” Ryan looks just as uncomfortable as Michael feels. “You sleep here I’ll take the couch.” 

“Nah.” Michael brushes him off, “You had a tough day it’s your room so-” 

“Stay.” Ryan cuts him off.

“Ry.” Michael runs a hand through his hair, “We don’t.” 

They don’t sleep together. Haven’t since the weekend in Gainesville. It seems like a dangerous step to take without talking about where they are and what they’re planning to do. 

“I told my Dad.” Ryan reveals, “’Bout us. It’s why he kicked me out.” 

“You said you weren’t-” Michael reminds him, “Not now not before-” 

“I did.” Ryan repeats, “And he kicked me out.” 

“Shit.” Michael says. 

Michael has nothing else to offer. He doesn’t know what to tell Ryan to make this better. 

“I kinda knew he’d be like that I just thought he’d um... not care ‘cause it’s me.” Ryan stares at the floor as he talks, “I mean whatever I’ll sleep downstairs.”

“No.” Michael stops him, “Let’s just go to bed.” 

They both get undressed on opposite sides of the bed and Michael considers leaving his shirt on. He watches Ryan pull his off and does the same. 

“Switch.” Ryan tells him when they’re pulling the blankets back, “You sleep on this side.” 

Ryan’s wearing the same brand of underwear he’d been wearing on Christmas and Michael can’t help but stare at him as he walks over to him. 

“Yeah.” Michael nods, focusing on something other than Ryan’s body, “I need to charge my phone.” 

“Here.” Ryan holds out his hand, “I’ll put it on the desk.” 

Michael’s never spent the night in Ryan’s old bedroom. He glances around at the posters on the wall and the old swimming news clipping pinned to a cork board. 

“D’you do homework there?” He laughs pointing at the desk. 

“Yeah.” Ryan jokes, “All the time. Hours of it.” 

“I had Michael Jordan posters.” Michael says staring at the football posters above the bed. 

“Had ‘em too.” Ryan confirms, “Dev took ‘em down when he got my room.” 

“D’you bring girls up here?” Michael jokes before walking over to the other side of the bed. He pulls the blankets out and slips in under them. 

“Um no.” Ryan shakes his head, “Wasn’t really into girls.”

Ryan plugs both their phones into charge before walking over to get the light. He walks carefully in the darkness back to the bed and gets in. 

It feels strange to be lying next to each other half naked. They both keep to their side of the bed for the first few minutes until Michael hears Ryan take in a shaky breath. He reaches for him and pulls him in close. He moves his pillow and his arms until Ryan is close to him.

“Your dad’s gonna get over it Ry.” Michael comforts, “We’ll figure it out.” 

He knows Ryan is crying but doesn’t know what to do. He rubs his back and closes his eyes and listens to Ryan’s breathing steady and slow down. Ryan reaches out to wrap an arm across Michael’s waist and rest his hand against his hip, stroking his fingers against the tattoos he can’t see in the darkness. 

Even though they haven’t talked Michael understands that this is it. 

Ryan’s hand squeezes his hip and Michael feels Ryan’s lip kiss his chest and move up to his neck. 

Ryan’s leg slips between his to press their hips together and he rocks up against him while he moves his kisses up to Michael’s jaw. 

“Ry.” It’s too dark for Michael to see Ryan’s face. He reaches blindly for his face, tips Ryan’s face up and kisses him. 

“I want you.” Ryan pulls away for a second before kissing him again. 

Ryan’s hand slides from Michael’s hip and rubs up and down his thigh before reaching around to cup his ass. 

“Fuck.” Michael moans, moving to press his hips harder against Ryan’s, “Me too.” 

They kiss again and Michael tugs Ryan’s underwear down. He does the same with his own and moves until he’s half on top of Ryan, grinding down against him and bending his head to suck at Ryan’s collarbone, hitting all the spots he knows Ryan loves. 

It’s quick for both of them. Ryan moans loudly and Michael has to kiss him hard to shut him up. Ryan pulls away from the kiss and raises his head to lick at Michael’s neck before biting down on his earlobe. He slips a hand between their stomachs and closes his fist around Michael’s dick. 

Michael hides his face against Ryan’s shoulder as he comes. He moves his hips against Ryan’s fist until just the brush of Ryan’s fingers becomes too much. He flips on his back and waits for Ryan to hand him the t-shirt he’d picked off the ground to clean himself up. 

“We were supposed to wait.” Michael says when Ryan gives him the t-shirt. 

“I’m done waiting.” Ryan states, “This is it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally meant for this chapter to span a few more days than it does. I ran out of time and I figured that what I had ready was better than making you wait longer for an update.
> 
> Please forgive me. 
> 
> Thank you.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lonelier the highway, the prettier the view  
> And the sooner it takes me home to you  
> And so people will say that you’re not even my own  
> ‘Cause I sat there and burned down your home  
> -Lonely Mexico, Dylan Owen
> 
> The only things that you can see  
> Is all that you lack  
> Come on up to the house  
> \- Come On Up to the House, Tom Waits

**December 30th  
Daytona Beach**

They leave Florida early; too early to say goodbye to anyone and too early to stop by the hospital. While Ryan goes inside to tell his mom that they’re leaving Michael sits on the concrete steps of the Lochtes’ home waiting for their cab. 

Florida is warm and it’s a nice change from snowstorms and freezing temperatures. The warm weather is something Michael’s come to associate with Ryan. 

When Ryan comes to join him outside though he has a black hoodie and a grey beanie on. His hand feels cool against Michael’s knee. 

Michael had woken up with half of Ryan’s body over his own. Ryan’s arm had been over his face, his chin on his shoulder, his legs intertwined and most of his chest pressed up tight against him. Over the years, Michael had gotten used to waking up pinned down by Ryan’s limbs and had found ways to move him without waking him up or woken him up to get him to move. This time though he hadn’t bothered, he’d left every part of Ryan exactly where it was and pressed himself back up against him. 

He’d felt Ryan smile against his neck. 

The front door slams open behind them and Michael feels Ryan’s still cold hand close around his knee. 

“You leavin’?” Devon asks and he sounds so betrayed that Michael winces. 

Devon looks just as good as Ryan. His hair is sticking up, his eyes are bloodshot and he’s also wearing a hoodie. 

“Go back in DC.” Ryan says without looking back, “S’cold. Call you from New York.” 

“Ry-” Devon pleads, “I was drunk so what I said-” 

“You ain’t said nothin’” Ryan reassures but he still won’t look back, “We’re good.” 

Michael chooses not to speak up. He decides not to bring up the things Devon had said the night before because he knows getting between Devon and Ryan is a dumb move. 

“Whatever Dad said he didn’t mean.” 

“No.” Ryan frowns and shrugs it off, letting go of Michael’s knee to rub the back of his neck. “He got clear.” 

Ryan unzips his hoodie and Michael sees part of a hickey bruised on his collarbone. He reaches out to rub it and Ryan takes his hand. 

“Dad loves you.” Devon tries again, “We love you so don’t like-” 

“I’m going to New York.” Ryan finally turns his head back to look at his brother, “For work.” 

“Dad needs-” Devon starts to argue. 

“Dad hates I’m gay.” Ryan argues back, “Like you can say he don’t but he kicked me out. I ain’t ready to go back.” 

“Yo we need you.” Devon points out. 

“I know.” Ryan agrees.

Under his fingers Michael feels Ryan’s pulse pick up.

Over the years Michael’s spent a lot of time accusing Ryan of being irresponsible. Accusing him of not thinking, of not taking time to assess consequences and potential outcomes. He’d get mad after Ryan chose to bomb a hill on his skateboard or jumped off trees. Every new injury had always seemed so stupid. Every bad decision so reckless. 

Ryan had spent an equal amount of time accusing Michael of being boring, of thinking too much, of being too responsible. Sprained ankles healed and concussions sucked but eventually the headaches faded away and the story was always good man, the fun was worth it Ryan would always insist. 

The truth is that once you strip away the skateboard, the firework stash and the freezer full of weed brownies Ryan is maybe the most responsible person Michael knows. 

Ryan carries the weight of his family on his shoulders willingly. Shoulders the weight of his father’s career as a swim coach and the sacrifices his family’s had to make. Swims remembering the time his family had struggled and trying to forget that maybe his career and the fame that had followed Beijing had driven his parents to divorce. 

Ryan felt responsible for his father’s drinking, for Devon’s drug arrest, for Brandon’s problems in school. For his sister struggling to run the swim club for missing Christmas, for not being a better son. 

Ryan worries about his mom and his siblings. Had chosen to half raise Devon through college and tried to buy his parents’ house when it was clear they were struggling. 

As much as Ryan goes through life not caring what other people think of him Michael knows that Ryan cares what his family thinks of his life. Ryan has talked about how worried he was to come out to his father since Athens. Michael can’t imagine how long he’d held onto that fear. How long Ryan had been scared to be himself at home. 

Now something is broken and maybe Michael understands why Ryan is running away. 

Michael wraps his arm around Ryan like his touch might calm him down. Forgets all the things Devon had accused him of the night before. When Ryan had first told him his dad would never speak to him again if he found out he was gay Michael had told him not to worry about it. 

Devon walks back into the house and slams the door shut behind him. 

Michael has no advice. He doesn’t speak to his father and his mom and sisters expect close to nothing from him. He’s used to being taken care of, used to being the baby. 

Their cab is late and neither of them are patient. Michael pulls out his phone and plays some angry birds waiting for Ryan to sort things out in his head. 

“Why are you in shorts?” Ryan finally says, “S’freezing.” 

“You want to live in B’more an’ you think 76 is freezing?” Michael laughs, “I got bad news for you son.” 

“I don’t know.” Ryan shrugs, “Maybe I can’t.” 

*

Ryan knows he’s too quiet on the flight to New York but he can’t help it. He’s so caught up in his own thoughts that at the airport he almost forgets to fist bump the suit of armour who hangs out near the departure gates. It’s only after he catches Michael doing it a few steps behind him that he backtracks and follows tradition. 

He doesn’t usually dwell on things. He’s always been good about letting stuff roll off his back but this time it’s different. This time it hurts and he doesn’t know what to do. This time his shitty decision-making has caught up to him. 

He’s a step behind Michael but the small airport is fairly empty this early in the morning so he takes a bigger step and falls in line with him. 

“Want coffee?” Ryan offers pointing to the Starbucks just ahead. 

He grabs Michael’s hand out of habit and feels Michael freeze for a second. He expects him to pull away but Michael doesn’t. 

Ryan hates letting his family down but he knows he has to sort out his own life before he can handle anything else. He unconsciously rubs the back of Michael’s hand with his thumb and forgets for a second that they still haven’t sorted things out and that they’re in the middle of an airport in Florida. 

“Ry?” Michael asks, letting go of his hand to reach for his phone, “What d’you want?” 

“Um yeah.” Ryan fixes his beanie and smiles at the barista whose face suddenly flashes with recognition, “Coffee, large.” 

“Venti.” Michael corrects. 

“Venti.” Ryan mimics back. 

“Two pumps vanilla.” Michael adds, “For his.” 

Michael remembers his coffee order better than he does. As he digs through his wallet for his credit card or some change Michael’s already waved his phone in front of the scanner to pay. 

He laughs openly at Ryan. 

“Whatever man.” Ryan rolls his eyes while they wait for their coffee. 

“Whatever.” Michael repeats still laughing. 

Then Ryan smiles and it’s the first time he’s felt happy in days. 

Michael kisses him. In front of the barista, in front of the rest of the people in line, in front of the entire airport. 

 

**December 30th  
New York City**

It’s colder in New York than in Baltimore. 

Ryan has a meeting at Ralph Lauren and leaves as soon as they’ve checked into their hotel. While he’s gone, Michael showers, gets dressed, goes to grab another coffee and comes back to the hotel room to wait. 

Maybe I can’t. 

Alone without Ryan to distract him, the last words Ryan had spoken before they’d left the house still echo in Michael’s mind casting doubts on everything. If Ryan is still unsure what are they doing here? If Ryan still isn’t sure he can commit what’s the point. 

Michael tries to rally any anti-Ryan thoughts still hanging around his mind but most of them have deserted him. He thinks of Hilary’s speech on Christmas morning and knows she was partly halfway right. 

Ryan had come out to his dad though. Ryan had come out to his family. Ryan had sold his house. Yet Ryan had decided they’d be best friends. Ryan had decided to kiss him. Ryan had decided to end it. 

It’s not the first time in his life that Michael thinks maybe he’s let Ryan make too many important life choices for him. 

Michael turns on the tv to drown out his own thoughts. Ryan texts him to say he’s on his way back and suggests they go out for beer and wings. He sends a picture of the suit he’d just been fitted for and Michael grins alone in the hotel room. Proud to know that Ryan will be his date, that Ryan will be wearing that to be with him. 

The doubt settles down. 

He’s watching a poker game and writing an email when he hears Ryan struggling with the key card to the room. 

“Think fast.” Ryan says as soon as the door opens. 

Before Michael can put down his phone a half melted snowball hits his chest and Ryan’s laughter erupts through the room. 

“You were suppose to catch that.” Ryan complains like his motives were obvious. He takes another snowball out of his pocket and shows it to Michael, “Catch this one yeah?” 

He throws it carefully underhand like you would throw a softball to a small child. Michael catches the freezing cold and sopping wet ball of snow and holds it out expectantly at Ryan who’s still laughing. 

“Throw it at me.” Ryan instructs, “Come on I ain’t got a third one.” 

Because he doesn’t know what else to do with a snowball in the middle of a hotel room Michael follows instructions. Throws the snowball hard so that it hits Ryan’s left shoulder, explodes and sends snow flying to various parts of the room. 

“Jeah.” Ryan grins. “Snow’s awesome.” 

Ryan drops his Ralph Lauren bags by the door and walks over to sit down on the bed where Michael had been. He kicks off his shoes, takes off his pants and his shirt before he relaxes back against the mountain of pillows in just his underwear. 

Michael settles in beside Ryan and allows himself to admit he’s missed this. 

Ryan pushes his hands under Michael’s shirt and falls asleep while Michael continues to watch poker. He drinks his now lukewarm coffee and keeps checking his email. Awake, he can observe how Ryan slowly stretches out to invade more and more of his personal space. Ryan’s hands snake further under Michael’s shirt until one of his arms is wrapped around his waist and the other rests across his chest. There are ten pillows on the bed and Ryan uses him instead. 

Michael forgets poker. He rubs Ryan’s bare back with his hand and feels him relax further against him. He traces the freckles on Ryan’s shoulders and down his arm and brushes his thumb against Ryan’s hipbone, pressing into the skin before running it across Ryan’s stomach. 

He remembers Christmas morning in his kitchen and Ryan in just a towel. 

He dips his fingers below the waistband of Ryan’s underwear and slides his hand around to squeeze Ryan’s ass. 

Ryan mutters something unintelligible still mostly asleep but he loosens his grip around Michael and grinds up against his hand. 

Michael pushes Ryan’s underwear down and even sleeping Ryan is already half hard. He turns sideways to slither out of Ryan’s grip and moves on top of him, his hands spreading Ryan’s thighs apart. Michael sucks down on one of his fingers and presses it against Ryan’s hole. 

Then, his phone vibrates in his pocket. 

“Why d’you stop?” Ryan complains, his voice heavy, legs still spread with his underwear hanging stretched out over his thighs. 

“What?” Michael answers his phone nervously like the person on the other end will know what he’d been doing. 

“Next time you kiss Ryan Lochte at a Starbucks maybe give an heads up.” His agent scolds, “If you knew-” 

“Fuck.” Michael swears and because he’s not ready to have this conversation he hangs up the phone and throws it back on the bed. 

While Ryan has always been afraid of coming out to his family Michael’s biggest fear has always been to be found out. He’s never been able to imagine how being gay and being with Ryan would fit into the image of Michael Phelps, Greatest Olympian of All Times. 

“Shit.” Michael panics, “Fuck!” 

“What?” Ryan frowns at his sudden movements before he reaches across the bed to grab the iPhone Michael had just dropped. 

Kissing Ryan had felt so easy at the airport Michael hadn’t even thought of it. Now as Ryan starts to scroll through the text messages that preceded the phone call Michael can clearly see the pictures of what he’d thought had been a private moment. 

“Are these out?” Ryan asks right before scrolling to a screen shot of the TMZ website, “Yeah.” He answers his own question. 

Ryan hasn’t bothered to pull his underwear up or to get out of bed. He’s in the same position like he expects Michael to come back and join him. 

“Why’s no one calling you?” Michael wonders out loud.

“I fired everyone.” Ryan shrugs, “I like run it on my own.” 

Ryan running his own life might be the worst idea Michael’s ever heard but there are more important things to entertain. He paces in front of the bed forcing himself to look away from Ryan’s naked body. 

“Fuck.” He cries out frustrated. 

“Nah.” Ryan calls out and Michael doesn’t even have to look at him to know he’s shaking his head, “You can’t be mad ‘bout this.” 

“What?” Michael turns around, “Are you fucking serious? It’s on TMZ Ryan.” 

“When we got kids you wanna show ‘em we’re scared for people to know we’re together?” Ryan questions, “’Cause I don’t care. We can’t like be married and havin’ kids and not be out. Like it’ll be Rio and you and maybe our kid are gonna watch from where? The hotel?”

“What?” Michael asks confused by the amount of information and half sentences Ryan’s just thrown at him, the overload of information is more shocking than the pocket snowballs from earlier. “Slow down.”

Ryan is staring off into space and Michael knows he’s probably lost him. He snaps his fingers to get him to refocus. 

“What?” Ryan asks. 

Michael’s phone buzzes again in Ryan’s hand and they both ignore it. 

“What you said.” Michael reminds him, “Slower.” 

“We gotta be able to touch in public.” Ryan manages to form a full sentence. “So our kids don’t feel like weird about havin’ two dads.” 

“We’re talking kids?” Michael interrogates feeling surprisingly calmer than he’d ever thought he would be about the subject. 

“Yeah we are.” Ryan insists, “Why else we here?” 

Michael feels dizzy from the sudden turn in the conversation. His phone still buzzes in Ryan’s hand. 

“Just send it to voicemail.” He tells him. 

“Can I shut if off?” Ryan asks. 

Michael nods. He paces the room a few more times before coming back to sit cross-legged in bed next to Ryan who’s kicked off his underwear instead of pulling it back up. 

“So we’re out.” Ryan says cautiously like he’s afraid of making Michael angry. “People know.” 

Ryan sits up and he rests both his hands on Michael’s shoulder before rubbing his back. 

“Our family knows.” Ryan keeps reassuring, “It don’t matter.” 

Ryan’s hands are soothing but Michael can’t get the panic to stop. He thinks of the story on TMZ, of all the already existing pictures of Ryan and him standing too close, of how he’s not ready to become Michael Phelps; The Greatest Gay Olympian of All Times if Ryan is just going to quit on him again. 

He’s not ready to come out if Ryan isn’t ready to commit and now the choice is no longer his. Ryan or no Ryan he knows this story probably won’t ever go away. That no apologetic interview will ever make it go away. 

He doesn’t want to apologize for Ryan anyways. 

“Mike.” It’s Ryan’s turn to snap his fingers, “It don’t matter.” 

Ryan kisses his neck, slides his hands around Michael’s chest to hug him close. He rests his chin on Michael’s shoulder and kisses him again. 

Michael knows how this goes because this is what they’ve been doing since they were still in College. That they avoid talking about things and just assume the problem will go away. This time it can’t go away. This time they have to talk. 

Michael pushes Ryan away.

“What the fuck?” Ryan exclaims hurt, betrayed. “Why d’you care. Yo like I told my dad. He kicked me out he-” 

“This morning you said you weren’t sure you could move.” Michael interrupts Ryan. “I’m not like putting all that shit out there if you’re not sure Ry. Not if you’re gonna flip out and leave me-” 

“I said I wasn’t ready to give up my family.” Ryan corrects, like Michael should have understood his meaning. 

“I gotta know that shit Ry.” Michael says frustrated because he can’t spend the rest of his life guessing what Ryan really means. 

“You’re like my family too.” Ryan says. “Like us is another.” 

It’s a lot to take in even though maybe this is what they’ve both wanted for years. It’s infuriating to think that being together is so hard to figure out and Michael starts to think that maybe they just need to do it. That they just need to move in together, make their own family and close out everything else that doesn’t matter. 

“Stop thinking.” Ryan urges. 

“What do we do?” Michael asks because Ryan seems to have a better handle on this than he does. 

“Go out.” Ryan shrugs, “Get wings. I’m starving.”

*

It might be their first public date. 

Michael can’t remember ever walking down a street shoulder to shoulder with Ryan while other people push past them and wait with them at crosswalks. 

Ryan’s gray beanie is back but this time he has an actual coat and a scarf that covers half his face. The scarf makes his eyes look impossibly bluer and Michael can’t help but smile at him. 

“It’s freezing.” Ryan points out. 

Michael wraps an arm around him and no one stops them. They walk two blocks without anything happening. Without anyone pointing them out, without anyone stopping to take a picture, without anyone saying something rude. 

“I can’t walk no more.” Ryan whines. 

Michael resists the urge to laugh at him but he turns a corner in search of somewhere that looks like it might sell beer. He finds one half a block down and opens the door to let Ryan in. 

Inside the bar, they have to remove their coats, their hats and their scarves and become themselves again. Michael becomes overly conscious of everyone looking at them and hopes that the people already crowding the bar aren’t the type to sit at home watching TMZ on a weekday. 

There aren’t any tables but there are miraculously two empty stools near the middle of the bar and they grab them, leaving their coats on a coat rack nearby. It’s a kind of sketchy place but they’re both freezing and hungry.

They have beer and wings and burgers and watch a hockey game but can’t exactly discuss their future. 

Every once in awhile, Michael catches Ryan staring at him with a kind of dumb look on his face and he can’t help but smile back at him. 

“Jeah!” Ryan cheers when the hockey team he’d chosen to cheer for scores a goal. 

Ryan high fives the stranger sitting next to him, a college kid in a Rangers’ jersey, and takes another sip of his beer. He looks at Michael over the edge of his glass and winks.

Under the bar, Michael reaches to squeeze his knee suddenly wishing they hadn’t been interrupted in the hotel room. 

“I love you.” Ryan says casually once he’s swallowed his beer. He reaches to dip his wing into the cup of dressing that’s closer to Michael’s plate.

Michael doesn’t move his hand, he keeps drinking and eating while still holding on to Ryan to maybe make up for all the times he hadn’t allowed himself to touch him in public. He runs his hand from Ryan’s knee to his thigh and inches his bar stool closer.

Ryan’s team wins and this time he turns towards Michael to gloat. They’re sitting close to each other and then Ryan’s face is right there, he’s smiling so wide his eyes crinkle and Michael kisses him. 

When they pull apart Ryan is still grinning. He pulls Michael close and kisses him again.

“Hey.” A friend of the hockey jersey guy interrupts, “You’re Michael Ph-” 

“Nah man.” Ryan laughs, after he’s pulled away. “He’s way hotter.” 

“I’m Ryan.” Michael holds out his hand, “Happens all the time.” 

“Dude we should go Ry.” Ryan says still laughing like calling Michael by his name is the most hilarious joke in the world, “Get our coats, I got this.” 

The guy takes a picture anyways, while Michael’s hand is still on Ryan’s thigh and they’re both staring at each other looking too happy. 

“That’s not cool bro.” Ryan narrows his eyes, “Delete that shit.” 

“Shit.” The guy holds his phone out of Ryan’s reach, “You’re that other fucking guy.” 

Ryan grimaces at the description. 

“You’re just here making out like a couple of fags-” The guy says, “It’s-” 

Michael grabs Ryan by the shirt before Ryan even has a chance to move because Ryan has a bad habit of getting into bar fights over people he cares about. 

“Go get the coats.” Michael tells him, “It’s okay.” 

Michael lets Ryan go experimentally, loosening his grip on Ryan’s shirt until he’s sure Ryan is headed for the coat rack. 

“Relax bro.” The guy in the jersey says, eyeing Ryan carefully, “It was a joke. Make out fuck each other on the bar I don’t give a fuck-” 

Michael’s taken strangers’ phones before. He’s used to grabbing them out of people’s hands to delete pictures and videos of himself drunk or smoking up and he figures that now this rule extends to pictures of Ryan and him kissing. 

The guy is holding his phone and Michael has no way of taking it without causing more of a scene. He thinks of stealing it and throwing it outside, of dunking it in Ryan’s still half full glass of beer or knocking it to the ground. 

Instead he throws money on the counter before downing the rest of his beer. He nods at their waitress in thanks and heads over to where Ryan is waiting holding his coat. 

“Go.” Michael takes his coat and holds the door. 

It feels colder than it had before and this time they walk a foot apart from each other in silence. Ryan has his hands balled up inside his coat and his face turned down away from the wind. Whatever bubble they’d been in inside the bar has now burst

“Ry.” Michael stops him because they’re walking away from the hotel, “Stop.” 

“I just wanna-” Ryan turns towards him, “Stop tellin’ me what to do.” 

The words in the bar hadn’t hurt but the look on Ryan’s face does. 

“We had to get out.” Michael explains, “I didn’t want-” 

“A bunch of fucking kids to know we’re together?” Ryan shakes his head, stamping his feet to keep them warm, “You wanna hide?”

Ryan’s shoulders are hunched over and his arms wrapped around himself. His scarf is hanging over his shoulders and Michael wraps it back around his neck.

“No.” Michael says. 

Ryan shrugs. 

“I ain’t a kid.” Ryan says, “Or some chick you can boss around like…” 

“What?” 

“Like I thought it’d be changed.” Ryan almost sneers, “Like it be just.” 

Ryan looks annoyed. Like the last place he wants to have this conversation is a New York City sidewalk in the middle of winter. Around them crowd barricades have started to show up for New Year’s Eve and people mill about without noticing them. In the grand scheme of the city they are insignificant and nobody around them knows that this is their life. That the two of them standing there freezing half to death with snow drifting in their hair is their future. That maybe Ryan is about to quit again and despite everything all Michael really wants is to rewind time ten minutes and be back inside the bar kissing Ryan. 

“I want to show you something.” Michael says without addressing any of the problems Ryan had just brought up. “That way.” 

Michael starts to walk and hopes Ryan follows him. After a dozen feet Ryan falls in step with him and Michael feels the back of their hands brush together. Neither of them moves to hold hands and after a block Ryan’s hands are back in his pockets. 

“Dude where we going?” Ryan asks, after they’ve walked a block past the bar still heading the opposite direction from their hotel. “Our hotel’s the other-” 

In his pocket Michael runs his fingers against the one key on his keychain that still feels foreign. He’s made up his mind to show Ryan the apartment. To bring him up to see the place he’d bought for them. The rooms he’d imagined their lives in. The home Ryan had stripped empty before they had ever moved in. 

Because he figures that maybe if he’s in the empty apartment he might be able to make better life decisions. That in the empty apartment he might be able to remember how bad it had all hurt. 

“Yo it’s fucking freezing.” Ryan whines. 

“I gotta show you something.” Michael says determined.

“If it’s your dick I’ve seen it.” Ryan shoots off angry that they’re still outside in the cold, “F’you think you’re getting-”

Michael lets Ryan drone on about the drawbacks of hand jobs in New York City alleyways as he looks up trying to remember where their place is. 

“Can you even feel your dick?” Ryan finally stops talking to ask, “Cause my balls man they ain;t-” 

“I got a house.” Michael snaps back, recognizing his building as they turn a corner. “For your dumb ass.” 

“Uh?” Ryan is stunned into silence. 

“Just shut up.” Michael sighs grabbing the sleeve of Ryan’s coat. “Come up.” 

The doorman opens the door for them and Ryan lets Michael drag him along. He’s no longer talking. 

Michael tries to stop thinking about all their shortcomings, about all the ways they’re wrong for each other. Of all the doubts he has as a child of divorce about relationships and faithfulness. He tries to stop considering everything he doesn’t know or can’t figure out about Ryan. How he’s never maybe felt like Ryan would stay how he’s always put up walls how telling Ryan what to do had always been easier than waiting for him to make a decision. 

“Dude.” Ryan shakes his head, “You’re thinking too much.” 

Yet Ryan takes his hand and his skin feels warmer already and in the light of the elevator Michael reaches to brush snowflakes out of his hair. 

He’d bought the house to make room for Ryan in his future. To show that it was something he could think about to force it to happen but he’d never considered that forcing Ryan into anything had always been a horrible plan. 

“When it’s just us it’s okay.” Ryan says as the numbers flash by in the empty elevator, like he’s trying to convince himself. “S’always just us.” 

“I just wanted to have something.” Michael explains brandishing the key, “To like show for it.” 

It had been a power move but Michael can’t admit it yet. 

He opens the door and steps in before Ryan. At night, without the sunlight the apartment isn’t as breath taking. The place is dustier than it had been on his last visit and the place is still entirely empty. 

“There’s like a kitchen.” Michael vaguely points to the left, “An you can see Central Park.” He waves his hands towards the windows.

Ryan doesn’t say anything. He drops his bag by his feet and heads to the window in the living room. His sneakers leave wet footprints on the hardwood floor. He puts his hand up against the cold glass of the window and looks down. 

“It’s empty.” Michael points out the obvious and his voice echoes through the room, “Nothing’s really been done. I haven’t been here.”

Ryan stays near the window and Michael stays in the empty foyer staring at him. Waiting for him to say something. 

“Ry.” He calls out. 

In a way Michael knows they’ll never live here. That this is maybe the most unlike Ryan place to live. That no matter how much time they spend here it’ll never be the kind of place where a person can skateboard through the living room, throw spaghetti on the ceiling and move all the furniture against the wall to have Air Soft gun fights. 

This had been a desperate attempt to impress Ryan and Ryan has never worked like that. 

“I can sell it.” Michael says before he walks over to join Ryan. 

They both sit cross-legged in front of the window of the living room staring out at New York City. Like all the nights they’d spent in hotel rooms across the world together. They’d done this in Beijing and in Montreal and in Portugal. When the events had been done and the medals had been won they’d gone back and just been together. 

“Where do you wanna gonna go?” Michael asks carefully because he doesn’t think he’s ever really asked Ryan. 

“I dunno.” Ryan admits, talking slowly “Like I didn’t think. Just wanted out.” 

“You’ll figure it out.” Michael placates with a racing heart because he’d been so sure Ryan wanted this an hour ago. 

They drift back into silence. Outside the snow falls heavy, coating the ledge of their windows. Down below the cars start moving slower, the lights creating small halos through the glass. 

“I know what I want like.” Ryan finally offers, “What we had way before. I want that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like After?” Ryan says carefully and Michael thinks he’s never heard him talk this slow. “We always said… That’s what I want…” 

“Me too.” Michael admits.

“Kids.” Ryan struggles to say, taking it a few steps further. “With you.” 

“Yeah?” Michael can’t bring himself to look at Ryan, “We gotta like think ‘bout it.” 

“You bought us a house Mpeezy.” Ryan says and the dumb nickname sounds ridiculous in such a serious sentence. “For like our kids and shit.” 

“Yeah.” Michael laughs but the memory of walking through it alone still stings. 

“I really want that.” Ryan keeps talking in full sentence and he frowns from the effort, “With you.” 

Michael really wants to believe him. Wants to believe that Ryan hadn’t only shown up at his house two days before Christmas because he’d been in the middle of some mental breakdown. That he hadn’t just been one of Ryan’s last minute, not thought out Bad Ideas. 

“I want to do Rio.” Ryan keeps talking, “I’ll figure that out. I don’t gotta stay in Florida.”

“You train in Florida.” Michael points out trying to keep Ryan’s thought pattern grounded in reality. “Who you gonna train with Bob?” 

“Rather go back an train with my dad.” Ryan retorts quickly.

Then Ryan’s face falls and Michael can imagine what he’s thinking about.   
Before Michael can think of something to say Ryan gets up. He paces the empty living room before walking down the hallway and disappearing. 

Michael decides to leave him alone. He’s pretty sure that none of the windows can open wide enough for Ryan to jump out. 

On the Family Feud answer board of top Ryan Lochte characteristics, impossibly happy is always close to the top. Ryan is even tempered. He’s not easily bothered and the thought that he might be depressed enough to jump out of a window had never crossed Michael’s mind before. Ryan being desperately sad has never happened before. 

Ryan probably doesn’t need to be alone. 

*

Michael finds Ryan in the large kitchen with the oversized empty fridge and the too many ovens. Ryan is sitting on the marble counter top (All one slab, imported from Italy, the quarry Michelangelo used) his sneakers propped up on the edge of the industrial looking gas stovetop. 

“You like talk to someone ‘bout your dad?” Michael asks awkwardly because this might be one of the first times Ryan and him talk seriously about actual feelings and real life shit instead of sex or music or sports. 

“Nah.” Ryan shakes his head; his voice sounding choked “We got like pamphlets.” 

Michael doubts pamphlets are enough. 

“He’s like dying.” Ryan says and his voice breaks, “An I just keep fucking up.”

Michael gets that Ryan probably needs a hug but he can’t make himself move closer. 

“You wanna take it back to your dad it’s cool.” Michael offers, “If it’s like-” 

He watches Ryan turn the nob with his sneaker and suddenly becomes aware that maybe Ryan is turning on the gas and that the entire apartment might just be getting ready to explode.

“Maybe you should like talk to someone.” Michael suggests, turning the stovetop nob off and standing between Ryan’s stretched out legs. “I’ll go with you.” 

“We got pamphlets man.” Ryan reminds him, “Don’t need to see someone.” 

“Dude.” Michael brushes off Ryan’s reassurances, “I’m fucking worried ‘bout you.” 

It’s the truth and it’s something he hadn’t thought he would admit. 

Ryan shakes his head but doesn’t look at him or talk. He sniffs and Michael doesn’t know if it’s because he’s crying or from the cold outside. 

“Our kids ain’t ever gonna feel like this.” Ryan promises, “Everyone’s telling me he loves me right? That he’s proud an’ shit but he kicked me out and I’m here like I fucked up and it’s my fault. Like he’s sick I should of not- We love ‘em whatever they want to do.”

“Ry-” Michael starts. 

“Nah like-” Ryan interrupts, “I don’t want ‘em to think we can stop loving ‘em for shit they just feel and when they’re like sixteen and they’re dumb and get drunk at parties and call I’ll go pick ‘em up. They wanna be gay that’s cool. Like I’m gonna be there for everything, I ain’t. Gonna. Miss. Shit.” 

Ryan punctuates his last three words by hitting the counter with his open palm. The slapping sound echoes through the kitchen. 

“Always be there.” Michael chooses to share instead of staying quiet because being a good father is something he’s thought of a lot too. “Like not leave ‘em.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees, “An if they like swim we ain’t gonna be those people yelling all GET YOUR ASS TO THE WALL.” 

When he wants to Ryan sounds exactly like his father and the intensity is foreign coming out of his mouth. Michael reaches for him to get him to stop. Like somehow he can force Ryan to be Ryan again. 

“We’re probably gonna be those parents.” Michael breaks the news. “Who yell.” 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees. “They don’t gotta swim though, I don’t care.”

Like he’s just laid down everything that was on his mind Ryan goes quiet again. His feet still firmly planted on top of the stovetop, his palm still resting flat against the counter. He still looks sad.

“Devon’s right.” Michael says.

“Yo he can hear you.” Ryan warns, “Don’t put ideas in his head.”

“This ain’t a joke Ry.” Michael stops him, “When he says your dad loves you he means it and your dad does. Like your dads gonna get over it. What do you think? He won’t show up to Rio because I’m-” 

“They said he won’t make it to Rio?” Ryan reveals, “Like not that long.” 

Michael has chosen to not let his dad into his life. Brushed off all his sisters’ attempts at reconciliation. Ignored phone calls and voicemails, told himself that it wasn’t a relationship he needed. Between his mom, his sisters and as fucked up as it had seemed Bob he’d formed a complete family. The sting of his dad leaving had faded. 

Michael knows Ryan needs his dad. That Ryan gauges most things in his life by his family’s reaction. As much as Ryan had always complained about his dad, raged over how nothing he did was ever enough and struggled at times to bear the weight of the responsibilities his dad rested on his shoulder he’d needed Steven. 

“This is a nice kitchen.” Ryan says and he wipes his face with his hands.

“Yeah.” Michael agrees, “It is.”

“They got pools here?” Ryan asks, toeing one of the nobs on the stove again. 

“Yeah.” Michael guesses, “Sure.” 

Ryan nods solemnly, like he is busy thinking. Michael waits for him to talk again because he really has no idea what to say. 

“I can’t deal with all this shit without you.” Ryan says, “I don’t care where we live.”

*

Ryan decides to tell the truth because pretending to be tough isn’t working anymore. His chest feels broken like he’d wrecked all his ribs and someone had realigned them wrong. It hurts to breathe and his heart feels too big. 

He’d tried to be numb about it to focus on the good things and not on his father dying, his father kicking him out, selling his house and running away. 

Now he’s laid out all his cards on the table and Michael won’t talk. 

“We can get a kid tomorrow.” Ryan keeps on talking knowing too late he should have kept his mouth shut, “Go to a hospital see if there’s one no one-” 

“That’s kidnaping.” Michael smiles at him.

“I’m ready.” Ryan proclaims.

“For a felony?” Michael asks but his eyes are still kind and Ryan reaches out for him.

Ryan drops his feet off the stove and brings Michael to stand between his legs. Close to him his chest feels a little better.

“I don’t got any other plans.” Ryan admits, “I can’t get over it.”

Ryan looks around the kitchen and stares down the hallway towards the rest of the apartment he hasn’t seen yet. He remembers the weekend they’d spent house hunting in Baltimore and how he’d wanted to get out and run. Now all he wants to do is stay. 

He thinks absentmindedly of going back in time and punching that Ryan in the face.

Michael still isn’t talking but both his hands are on Ryan’s chest rubbing up to his shoulders like he knows that somehow that’s where Ryan hurts. 

“Like I think of what we had before. When we had plans and we knew where we were going and before everything happened.” Ryan keeps talking, “Then it made sense.”

Ryan feels like nothing. He has nowhere to go home to and no one to be with. The only home he had felt in the past years had been with Michael and he had burned it down with regrettable choices. He covers his face with his hands.

“I don’t wanna be in Rio and look up and you’re not there.” Ryan specifies, “I don’t wanna do this without you.” Ryan reveals, “Can’t.” 

“Okay.” Michael agrees easy, his thumbs working knots out of Ryan’s shoulders. “I’m here.” 

**December 31st  
Las Vegas**

They spend most of the day sleeping. 

They’d stayed at the apartment talking late. After a few hours of Ryan pointing at empty rooms and imagining how they could fill them the apartment had felt like maybe it could be home. 

There had been just enough time to cab back to the hotel, get their stuff and head to the airport. 

They wake up in time to get ready for their dinner reservations. When Michael gets out of the shower Ryan walks around in underwear and his dress shirt trying to do up his tie and Michael wants to forget his appearance and the dinner. Wants to push Ryan up against the wall and fuck him, like he’s been thinking about since he’d seen him in a towel in his kitchen on Christmas Day. 

“Cool it slut.” Ryan calls out across the room, “I’m starving.”

*

Michael watches Ryan.

He watches Ryan dance and laugh. He watches him shake hands and high five strangers. Watches him take pictures with dressed up girls and guys who try to talk themselves up. 

He watches Ryan until Ryan glances back at him, sitting in the VIP booth drinking, and winks. 

The news that they’re together is out. They hadn’t disputed the pictures from the airport and they hadn’t kept their distance at dinner or walking to the club. 

Four drinks in Ryan walks up to where he’s sitting and gives what Michael can only assume is Ryan’s version of a lap dance. Ryan grinds on him and loosens his tie. Kisses him and his mouth tastes like Seven Up. 

It’s not close to midnight, probably closer to ten thirty and Michael can’t wait anymore. 

“Let’s go.” He tells Ryan pulling him closer by his tie. 

“Can’t resist them moves!” Ryan calls out proudly, doing some weird hip-popping move that keeps Michael from standing up. 

“Yeah.” Michael agrees to speed up the process, “That’s it.” 

Ryan is the one who pushes Michael against the wall of the elevator and kisses him hard. Michael doesn’t even care that they’re in public. He doesn’t care that the door could open on any floor to people waiting to get in. All he cares about is how warm Ryan’s lips are on his. How heavy Ryan is leaning against him. How bad he wants to feel his skin. 

Once inside their room, custom tailored suit jackets are thrown to the floor and start the trail of clothes leading up to the bed. 

Housekeeping has magically been in the room since they’d left for dinner and the fifteen pillows they’d already thrown on the floor are back on the bed. Michael shoves some aside before settling himself on top of Ryan, pinning one of Ryan’s arms above his head and kissing him. 

It’s different than in Florida. Michael doesn’t hesitate to grind against Ryan and to reach down to slip a hand past a dick, between his legs and brush two fingers against his hole. To continue what he’d started in New York the day before.

“S’been awhile.” Ryan breathes out, pulling away for a second “So like-” 

“Yeah Babe.” Michael agrees without asking the dozen questions that suddenly pop in his head about the last few months of Ryan’s life. “Don’t worry.” 

With Ryan spread out naked on the bed in front of him Michael doesn’t really know where to start. He kneels between Ryan’s legs and runs a hand up from Ryan’s ankle to his thigh and across his stomach. 

Ryan’s skin is warm despite the overly air conditioned room and Michael lets his other hand join the first one right below Ryan’s navel. His fingers trace Ryan’s abs and the birthmark on his hip like he’s trying to remember them. He lets his mind focus just on that, how Ryan’s hipbones jut out and how his tan line is not even an inch away from his dick.

Ryan is in considerably better shape than he is and to quiet the thought Michael sucks down on the birthmark on Ryan’s hip, a spot he’s always been allowed to bruise because it never really showed. No one had ever done a split screen comparing the mark peeking out of Ryan’s suit from one meet to another. He’d always gotten away with it. 

This part of their relationship has always been easy. In bed, Ryan has always been his. 

Ryan whines in complaint as Michael keeps tracing his abs and sucking on his hip. Michael feels Ryan’s dick twitch against his arm and knows that Ryan’s stopped caring about how long it’s been. 

But when Michael carefully pushes in a few minutes later, even after he’s done everything to make sure Ryan is relaxed and ready and knows Ryan wants it just as much as he does, Ryan’s hand stays on Michael’s hips to keep him from going deep. 

“Trust me Ry.” Michael takes Ryan’s hand and leans down to kiss him, “Won’t hurt you.” 

Ryan relaxes under him and Michael stays close. With one hand still holding onto Ryan’s and his other supporting most of his weight somewhere close to Ryan’s side. He keeps his mouth against Ryan’s before he moves his lips to kiss up Ryan’s jaw, suck on his neck and press against his ear. 

Ryan tips his head back and moans, lifting his hips up to meet Michael and rocking with him for a few strokes. 

“Yeah. You like that.” Michael tells him, lips just brushing close to Ryan’s ear, “You can take it.” 

He kisses Ryan again as he pushes deeper, careful and slow and waits. He kisses Ryan again and tries to hold still like they’re in the tiny bed in Athens in the room with the door that wouldn’t lock hoping no would try to get in. 

Ryan cries out, tipping his head back forward to glance down at where their bodies are connected. 

“Like watching my dick in you?” Michael asks, his voice rough. 

Ryan pushes up against him again and moans. One of his arms moves to rest across his face. 

“Feel good babe?” Michael says before he starts to move again, surprised at how breathless his voice sounds, he pushes Ryan’s arm off his face “Look at me.” 

For as much of a punk as Ryan is, in bed he tends to let go. He follows Michael’s command and looks up at him. 

“Fuck.” Michael holds his stare and pushes in deeper. 

Ryan winces and his hand comes back to rest on Michael’s hip pushing him away. 

“Sorry shit.” Michael says and all the roughness is gone from his voice. He pulls out, his dick resting against Ryan’s stomach. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Ryan nods but his eyes are still closed, his hand still on Michael’s hips and his mouth a tightline, “Just like- Minute.” 

“Relax Babe.” Michael urges. “Sorry.”

Michael goes back to what he’d been doing before. Kissing Ryan’s thighs and running his tongue up Ryan’s dick. Sucking on his head and letting him fuck his mouth a few times. Ryan’s fingers are tight in his hair and when Michael looks up at him Ryan’s staring back. Ryan loosens his grip before pulling Michael up to kiss him.

Michael’s lips are slick with spit and precum but Ryan doesn’t seem to care. He kisses him hard, biting at his lips and pushing his tongue into his mouth. 

“Get on top.” Michael says when Ryan pulls away from a second. 

Michael flips on his back to let Ryan slip out from under him. He props himself up against the cushions and the pillows before reaching for the bottle of lube which is somewhere close to his foot. He squeezes a few drops directly on his dick and jacks himself off to spread it around while he watches Ryan make a deliberate show of moving to straddle him. 

Kneeling up over him Ryan is taller. His head is above Michael and all Michael can see is Ryan’s broad chest and his abs. He runs his hands against Ryan’s skin, sliding them to run down his back and cup his ass before he spanks him. The sound of his hand hitting Ryan’s skin is loud in the quiet room. 

Ryan rocks up against him, their cocks sliding together pinned between them. 

“Flex.” Michael moves his mouth away from Ryan’s nipples to ask. 

Ryan laughs at him but flexes his biceps anyways and Michael leans back to admire it. His hand squeeze Ryan’s arms to feel his muscles. 

“Fuck.” Michael moans appreciatively, mouth moving to suck on Ryan’s arms, kissing his tattoo before moving back to kiss his chest. 

“You wanna fuck me?” Ryan’s voice is low and dirty, his lips a few inches from Michael’s.

Michael nods, reaching down to hold himself against Ryan, feeling him slide down over him. 

Ryan is careful. He lowers himself on Michael inch by inch starting to move before he’s taken all of Michael in him. 

“God.” Michael cries out, trying to keep his hips still so that Ryan can stay in control. 

It’s teasingly slow and Michael doesn’t know how much longer he can take it. He’s used to fucking Ryan as hard as he wants to. Used to Ryan being ready to take him. 

This is different than an adrenaline fuelled quick fuck after a race though. This is their first time in almost a year and Michael’s willing to let Ryan set to pace. 

Michael hangs his head forward, watching Ryan’s hard dick bob between them. He spits in his hand and wraps it around Ryan jerking him off as slow as Ryan is moving. 

“Right there.” Ryan says urgently, “Fuck.” 

Michael takes a chance and starts to grind up against Ryan, pushing himself deeper each time Ryan’s hips come down. This time Ryan doesn’t wince. This time Ryan just moans needy and desperate. 

“Careful.” Ryan warns before he knocks Michael’s hand off his dick, “Close.” 

Michael is close too but he doesn’t admit it. He leans his head sideways admiring the way all of Ryan’s muscles move along with his hips. 

“Lean back.” Michael says, “Lemme see your abs.” 

Ryan’s hips fall out of rhythm but he follows Michael’s command. He leans back and the angle pushes Michael deeper into him. 

Michael can’t get enough of Ryan’s skin, Ryan’s muscles, Ryan’s lips. One of his hands holds onto Ryan’s lower back helping him balance. He runs his other hand fingers splayed over Ryan’s abs. Loving that Ryan is on display for him. 

“Yeah.” Ryan moans as Michael pushes a hand up his stomach, pressing against his muscles, “I like that.” 

“Feel good?” Michael asks thrusting harder up against him because Ryan’s stopped moving, “You’re gonna cum riding my dick?” 

“Fuck yeah.” Ryan breathes out. 

Ryan is edging himself. He gives himself a few quick strokes before letting go all together and reaching for something else; Michael’s chest, Michael’s legs, Michael’s hair. He pushes his fingers past Michael’s lips and lets him suck on them before going back to stroking himself again. 

Ryan hasn’t talked in about a minute and Michael thinks it might be a record. 

Michael forces Ryan to slow down because he isn’t sure how much longer he can last. He holds Ryan’s hips until he’s stroking deep and slow. 

“Too good?” Ryan manages to smirk. 

For that comment, Michael gives him a few hard thrusts. 

“Like that.” Ryan’s smirk disappears, “All the way in. I’m so hard. Fuck.”

Michael watches Ryan unravel. He watches his chest heave, his muscles tighten and feels him clench around him. 

Ryan kisses him and seconds later Michael feels him cum against his chest and his stomach. Ryan rests his head against his shoulder. 

Michael thinks of pulling out and finishing across Ryan’s face or against Ryan’s tongue but because Ryan doesn’t tell him to pull out and because it feels too good to stop he keeps going. 

“Cum in me.” Ryan pants into his neck, “Yeah Mike.” 

“Flex.” Michael says again because watching Ryan’s body is the hottest thing he can think of at the moment. 

Ryan likes to show off so Ryan grins and does as he’s told. Flexes his arms and his abs and lets Michael feel his muscles. Michael wants to touch as much of Ryan as possible but as he fucks him as hard as he can his hands settle on Ryan’s hips, keeping him right there, forcing him to move along with him.

There are fireworks somewhere outside and the sound of them exploding reaches their bedroom. Michael wonders half minded if it’s midnight already. If this is how they’re going to ring in the New Year, with him balls deep inside of Ryan. 

He’s never finished inside of Ryan without a condom before and the thought of it pushes him over the edge. 

“Fuck.” Ryan cries out with him. 

When Michael is able to get himself together he looks up at Ryan and watches him still flexing clearly pleased with the effect it had had. 

“Shut up.” Michael rolls his eyes, tapping Ryan’s hip to get him to move off him. 

“Flex.” Ryan laughs, “Show me your abs.” 

“Off.” Michael taps Ryan’s hips again. “Come on.” 

“It was hot.” Ryan rolls off Michael and returns to his side of the bed, “You’re hot.” 

Michael reaches for his phone and checks the time; they’ve missed midnight all together. He has eighty text messages from people he mostly doesn’t care about wishing him a happy New Years. 

“Come back.” Ryan half whines, pulling on Michael’s arm, “Dude.” 

Michael drops his phone back on the bedside table and turns towards Ryan. He kisses him before getting up. 

“We got champagne at the bar.” He says, “I’m gross.”

“M’gross too.” Ryan points out. 

“Then come clean up.” Michael offers, leaning back down to kiss Ryan, “I can go again.” 

“Yeah you can.” Ryan smiles but his eyes are already half closed.

“Hey.” Michael hits his shoulder, “Don’t fall asleep.”

Ryan flexes the arm Michael had just hit and laughs to himself. Pulling at the sheets to get them free and throwing another few pillows to the ground. 

Michael ignores Ryan and walks to the bathroom. He turns on the shower and waits for Ryan to come join him. When it’s clear that Ryan has probably fallen asleep he shuts the water off, rinses his mouth with some of the hotel’s mouthwash and grabs the champagne bottle on his way back to bed.

Ryan is still naked, on his stomach with a sheet draped up to his waist. His skin is tanned against the white sheet and his faced is still flushed. Michael leaves the champagne bottle on the floor and settles down next to Ryan, slipping under the blankets too despite not being cold. 

He stretches himself over Ryan like Ryan usually ends up doing to him during the night. Pressing his chest over Ryan’s back, his mouth finding the crook of Ryan’s neck. 

Ryan’s eyes are closed and his head is tipped back. He might be sleeping so Michael kisses his neck.

Ryan kisses him in response and Michael can still feel his heart racing. He lets himself drop against Ryan, resting his head on the left side of Ryan’s chest to feel his heartbeat.

He doesn’t care what’s happened before. All he cares about is feeling Ryan’s skin against his own and how regardless of everything Ryan is his. In the end Michael can’t imagine his After without Ryan in it. 

“Marry me?” Michael asks because it’s the only thing he can think of to keep Ryan there with him. 

Ryan’s heartbeat has slowed down a tad and he’s definitely sleeping again. 

“Ry.” He says a bit louder,

“Hey.” Ryan opens his eyes he wraps one leg over Michael’s hips and both his arms across Michael’s back. “S’New Years?”

“Marry me.” 

Ryan tips his head towards Michael. He stares at him with narrowed eyes looking serious. 

“Yeah?” He asks. 

“Yeah.” Michael nods. 

“Yeah.” Ryan agrees.


	10. Epilogue

**July 2013  
New York City**

They choose to get married in New York City. 

They pick a private venue in Manhattan with a loft space for the reception and a rooftop terrace for the ceremony. 

As Michael walks down the aisle holding hands with his mother he can see the Empire State Building in the background. 

The sun is just setting and the air is warm. It reminds him a bit of Florida, reminds him a whole lot of Ryan. 

Ryan walks down the aisle flanked by both his parents and Michael knows how important this is for him. Ryan is in a grey and silver suit and he’s looking straight at him. 

Michael feels nervous, more nervous than he can ever remember being. He recites his vows in his head trying to not forget words or the order they should come in. 

Ryan joins him and suddenly it doesn’t matter. 

**December 31st 2013  
Baltimore**

It’s New Years Eve and their second full day in the NICU. Their baby, who’d chosen to show up six weeks early, is doing better. 

Two days after his birth the baby is breathing better but he doesn’t have a name or a crib. They still haven’t decided where they’re going to live.

Ryan is in shorts despite the snowstorm outside. His feet are propped up on the edge of Michael’s chair. He’s reading a well-worn baby name book his sister had brought with her from Florida, handed to him and demanded that by days end their baby have a name.

The baby is sleeping on his stomach, breathing on his own and maintaining his own body heat. Michael’s never been so proud of anyone in his life.

“The stuff they put in our hair in Athens when we won.” Ryan starts, his voice low and calm like he’s still talking to the baby in the incubator. 

Michael is more preoccupied with keeping his hands, one resting on the baby’s head and the other resting on the baby’s back, as still as possible. 

“You know the crowns.” Ryan says. 

“Yeah you didn’t take it off.” Michael remembers, watching one of the baby’s tiny hands reach out in front of him not really going anywhere. 

“Olive branches.” Ryan notes, pointing out the paragraph in the baby name book. “Holding one out means you wanna end a fight.” 

Michael nods because concentrating on the baby is more important than listening to Ryan learn new facts. 

Carefully Michael moves his finger forward and brushes it against the baby’s hand and the baby grabs onto him. 

“Look Ry.” Michael whispers. 

But Ryan is already looking. He inches his chair closer and presses his finger against the plastic box holding their baby. 

“We can’t like touch him.” Ryan says warningly, “Other than putting our hands on him he doesn’t like-”

“He’s good.” Michael brushes off Ryan’s sudden reverence for rules. “He’s getting stronger.” 

“Oliver.” Ryan moves closer to the incubator, “He’s Oliver.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this when my life was pretty awful. Walking home from work listening to music was how their entire reconciliation came to be. 
> 
> From three years ago to now, mugglemiranda has been one of the person I cherish the most. Over the last few years we've gone from lj comments, to emails to text messages to facetime calls. What has never changed is her never ending support for everything I write. There would be nothing without her. You should still thank her that this story didn't end with Michael/Devon like I threatened to do a few years back. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading. I seriously can't begin to tell you what your support and your comments mean to me. 
> 
> <3


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